Macha started her day with a scalp scrub using olive oil and splashing her face with rice water. In Imperial College, she had achieved the status of ‘Most Beautiful’. In spite of that, she yearned to be famous, to discover something. She had a brilliant brain, and set it to work to get the award.
Life in Imperial College was rather exciting, but it depended on who you were. Macha was happy with her job. Her long, dark hair, fair, smooth skin, slim frame and aquamarine eyes attracted other professors and students alike. That is, she was popular. But she always was defeated by her lack of athletic ability- and social skills. She was lonely, true, but she liked it.
It was her holiday. She had embarked a train to Paris using pocket money. Presently, Macha was sitting through a lecture on paranormal phenomena. Fascinated, she listened carefully to every word. The speaker talked about ghosts. Fairies. Vampires. Macha loved it. When the talk ended, she went home. Her imagination flew.
In her flat, vivid images of phantoms and spirits filled her mind. The woman absently took a pot of Bolognese sauce and pre-cooked pasta out of a tiny fridge. It whirred incessantly. After all, it was ten years old. The professor sat and ate slowly. Her prodigious mind focused, once again, on ways to invent or discover something. “Of course!” she spluttered through a mouthful of tomatoes. “I could pretend to discover a fairy…”
A bowl of pasta, a cup of water and a half-cracked table was what was left of Macha Tir’s dinner. She quickly approached her little Lenovo and turned it on. On a search engine, Macha typed in the words ‘fairy’ with lightning speed. The results were paltry. They featured little blonde creatures. Dolls. That was not what the English woman wanted. She cobbled together a plan. There were no such things as fairies- therefore, she could always invent one.
She looked out the window. Golden rays of sunlight shone through the glass panel. Evening. She rubbed the Lenovo’s edge lovingly, before opening an Acer. Cross-reference was useful. But more importantly, the Acer had broadband access and Realplayer had been installed on it.
Searches proved disappointing. She was just about to shut the computer when something caught her eye: REAL FAIRIES! Macha’s heart beat at one hundred and ten beats per minute. Was this the real thing? She opened it.
The website was tantalizing. The