Member-only story

An Interview With a Leprechaun

Gutbloom
The Athenaeum
Published in
4 min readMar 1, 2021

I heard a strange pinging sound in the basement, and fearful that it might be something wrong with the boiler, went downstairs to check. As I descended the cellar stairs, it became clear that the sound was coming from the mudroom. The sharpness of the sound and the stillness of the air made me pause, for there was magic about. I looked cautiously around the corner and my suspicions were confirmed. I had sensed it. The door was open. The night air mixed with that of the basement. Sitting on the bench where I normally put on my boots was a leprechaun.

He was wearing old jeans, a tee shirt, and a hoodie. His face was ancient, shrouded by the hood, and full of white whiskers. He wore no mask. His hands were busy fixing my loafers on a small cobbler’s kit he had brought with him. As soon as I saw him and realized what he was, he spoke to me.

Leprechaun: Come no closer, [he used my spirit name]. If you come near, not only will I stop repairing your loafers, I’ll sour your honey crop this summer so you’ll have no Christmas presents next year.

Gutbloom: I won’t move another inch.

[The temptation to try to catch a leprechaun was intense, but that was why the door was open. I had no chance.]

Leprechaun: That’s a smart Gutbloom. Maybe you’re not as stupid as you look.

Gutbloom: Why this good fortune? What have I done to merit a visit from the Fairy Folk?

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The Athenaeum
The Athenaeum

Published in The Athenaeum

The Athenaeum of Mushamaguntic, Northern United States. A salon of refuse. The repository for the library of dreck, the archive of prose comics, and the backlist of Mr. Mildew Omnimedia and publishing, LLC.

Gutbloom
Gutbloom

Written by Gutbloom

Tribune of Medium. Mayor Emeritus of LiveJournal. Third Pharaoh of the Elusive Order of St. John the Dwarf. I am to Medium what bratwurst is to food.

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