Note from Steph: The images that I got for this prompt were pretty widely varied, but this one stuck out to me. And the voice I chose for the video version of this is *chef's kiss*. Perfection.
The thing about being a guardian of imaginary friends is that you have to be very patient. And sturdy. Mostly sturdy. You try keeping your stuffing arranged while consoling a six-story-tall purple dinosaur who’s just been replaced by a PlayStation.
I’ve sat under this oak tree for… well, time moves differently in the In-Between, but I’ve seen enough seasons to wear the fur off my paws twice over. Each morning, I straighten my bow tie (because standards matter, even in metaphysical meadows), and wait to see who might pop into existence today.
Usually, it’s quiet. Most imaginary friends fade slowly, giving them time to accept that their children have outgrown them. But sometimes —
pop!
Ah. There we go.
A small unicorn materializes in my wildflower patch, looking dazed and translucent around the edges. Her rainbow mane is faded to pastels, which is never a good sign.
“Hello,” I say, keeping my voice gentle. “I’m Theodore. Though most friends here call me Ted. Or Guardian Ted, if they’re feeling formal. Which they usually aren’t.”
“I…” The unicorn blinks glitter tears. Her lower lip shakes. “I don’t understand. Emma and I were having tea just yesterday, and today she… she looked right through me.”
I pat the grass beside me. “Would you like to hear about the time I helped a superhero cape understand that being replaced by a real leather jacket isn’t the end of the world?”
The unicorn — her name is Sparklewind, because of course it is — settles beside me. Her mane is already looking brighter, which is a good sign. The flowers always help. There’s a reason I picked this spot, and it has nothing to do with the direction of the wind or the time of day.
“You’ve been here a long time,” she says, not really a question. Her horn catches the late afternoon light, sending tiny rainbows dancing across my worn fur.
“Long enough to need three bow tie replacements.” I adjust the current one. “But it’s good work, if you can get it. Helping friends find their way again.”
Sparklewind watches a group of imaginary robots playing tag in the distance. They were a package deal — an entire class’s worth of STEM project companions, retired en masse when the school got real robotics kits.
A tragedy.
“Do they all stay here forever?” she asks.
“Not always.” I smile, remembering the dinosaur who just last week found a new child who needed someone to keep the closet monsters in check. “Sometimes they find new children who need them. Different children. It’s not the same, but…”
“But it’s something,” she finishes. Then she turns those sparkly eyes on me. “When was the last time you went looking?”
“Me?” I laugh, but it comes out fuzzy. Stuffed bears aren’t great at deflection. “I’m needed here. I’m the Guardian.”
“Maybe.” She stands, her form already solid enough to cast a shadow. “Or maybe it’s time for a new Guardian. I hear there’s a little girl two towns over who really needs a teddy bear who knows how to listen.”
The surrounding flowers seem to nod in agreement.
Maybe it’s time.
pop!
Image made with Midjourney.
Prompt provided by NoGENver, GoOnWrite.
Flash Fiction written by S. J. Pajonas with assistance from Claude 3.5 Sonnet.
Listen to this story on YouTube at https://youtu.be/w1AnUQFFWFg
