Even the “wee little people” have to consider climate change when finding new digs.
“Well, Colm, have you and the little missus decided on which home will be yours?”
Colm didn’t like the way the realtor used the phrase “the little missus,” but he held his tongue. He’d let “the little missus” glare do all the talking on that point. He and Caroline had come to look for a new dwelling, one outside the faery hill they were living in. The sea level was rising and their hill had already started taking in some water. Yet, he wasn’t quite sold on this type of housing. After all, even it sat on spindle taken from an old staircase in rundown historic home, as advertised, he didn’t know he was quite ready to buy one.
“Maybe this will help you make up your mind,” Jasper the realtor said. He rubbed his hands together, then slapped then against each other, then shot his sleeves. His jacket was as loud as his actions. Rumor had it, the darn thing was actually made from a section of a horse blanket. If it had been from a braying jackass, it would have been more appropriate.
“For today, only,” Jasper said, “I will throw in a ten pound bag of birdseed at no additional charge.”
“Birdseed?” Caroline asked, speaking for the first time in over an hour. “What do we need birdseed for?”
“Why, my lovely, for the birds that will be stopping by.”
“You mean this is a bird house?” She asked.
“Only if you let them stay,” Jasper said. He rubbed his hands together again, then slapped them against each other again, then shot his sleeves again. “And if they should become a bother, I have a couple of cats on retainer that for a small fee I can send over your way for a few days, and that should clear things right up.”
Colm sighed. Moving into a neighborhood above ground was going to be harder than he had imagined.
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