The Cloud Faerie

By Esme Shearing, aged 7

One morning, when my little sister Imogen was being really annoying I stomped off angrily into the garden to get some peace and quiet. It was summer and the garden was full of beautiful, blooming red roses. Little Forget-me-knots were growing up around the patio which was covered in a wet greeny moss that reminded me of a turtles shell.

Right at the back of the garden was a gigantic oak tree that clambered up into the sky and seemed to be touching the clouds. I started climbing the tree and kept going until I reached the very top! I looked down and could see all the houses in Clementine Lane, they looked teeny.

When I looked up I was amazed to see a little girl sat just above me, weeping quietly. She wore a white woolly dress and her hair was as pink and springy as candy floss. On her back she had beautiful wings, she was a faerie! “Hello….what’s the matter?” I asked. “I’ve lost my fluffing stick” she replied. “What’s a fluffing stick?” I asked. The faerie, who’s name was Cloudia explained that she was a Cloud Faerie and that it was her job to keep the clouds clean and fluffy. “But I’ve lost my special fluffing stick and now the clouds are getting dark and gloomy and all the other faeries will tease me.” Her crying became louder and louder until I offered to help. “I know, we could make a new one for you.” Cloudia thought this was a brilliant idea.

I quickly climbed back down the tree and ran back to my house. The clouds were getting darker and darker. I opened the door quietly and tiptoed in; I knew just what I needed. I grabbed Mum’s whisk, perfect for making the clouds light and fluffy. Next I needed something that would be good for cleaning. Ah ha! I know just the thing, I thought, a toothbrush. I crept upstairs and into the bathroom, there stood four toothbrushes, luckily Imogen’s was brand new and pink, just like Cloudia’s hair. I snatched it out of the pot, ran down stairs and out of the back door remembering to take Dad’s brown tape off the kitchen worktop.

When I got back to the top of the tree Cloudia was looking really worried. The clouds had got really dark and it looked like a storm was coming. “What took you so long?” she snapped. “I was as quick as I could be” I said. We worked together to make the most fabulous fluffing stick. “It’s the best I’ve ever seen” said Cloudia “and it belongs to me…..thank you”. She quickly flew up into the sky and started to scrub and whisk the clouds until they were as white and fluffy as cotton wool and looked like ginormous floating sheep.

That evening before bed Imogen cried where’s my new toothbrush? I smiled, I’ll tell her later I thought to myself but only if she’s good.