Flash fiction by Tristan A. Arts
She was a goddess of chaos. But she wasn't Eris, or Oya, or Kali, or anywhere in their league. She wasn't even one of their sidekicks. She was like an imp, but less impressive. Her kind of chaos consisted of smaller things, like blowing out neon-sign letters on stores to make rude words at night with the remaining letters, or causing embarrassing misspellings and grammar errors on signs, homework assignments, and things posted to the Internet, usually by people who didn't often make such mistakes. The fact was, she was pathetic, and didn't even know it. Bored teenagers throwing jack-o-lanterns into the street wreaked more havoc than she did, but she went blithely on, noticed by no one, not making one iota of difference in the grand scheme of things. But despite all that, she was happy; enviably happy. Which gave her the kind of life that some people could only imagine. If only they knew about her, she'd be the envy of thousands of people. But, while they might chuckle at her handiwork, no one knew of her, or even knew her name. If she knew this, she didn't care. Life was good.
Crossposted from http://fayanora.dreamwidth.org