Mary fell fast. The air was silent.
“Stop!” cried a voice.
“Too late,” thought Mary as she fell, less than one second from hitting the ground.
But the command halted her movement. She remained above the concrete, hovering upside-down.
Moments passed. Mary struggled to upright herself, just an inch above the dirty pavement. But she was stuck. Some old newspapers wafted towards her, narrowly avoiding her face.
Then a fat lady appeared, as if stepping from behind an invisible door. A fat lady in a frilly pink dress, who waved a wooden stick with a clumsy yellow-painted star attached to it. “I am your fairy godmother,” the lady announced grandly. “I am here to help you.”
Mary, astonished, bellowed, “Why have you waited so long? Can’t you see that you’re too late. I’m dead!”
The pink-clad matronly woman pursed her lips. “Dear, you are very difficult. Why don’t you relax.”
Mary replied heatedly: “Go back to your fairy kingdom. As soon as I go to heaven, I’ll give you a terrible recommendation.”
The fairy godmother sighed dramatically, and said: “What makes you think you are going to heaven?” Then she laughed, her large diamond earrings tinkling as her body shook.
Mary shrugged glumly. As she was upside-down, it looked strange. The fairy godmother laughed gently: “You look ridiculous.”
“Well, you’re a failure as a fairy godmother,” Mary announced sullenly, and then closed her eyes. Tears fell through her hair onto the ground. She had no intention of being tormented in this manner, especially after being dead.