Once upon a time, in times much like ours, in a city similar to ours, in a small apartment from a tall building, there lived a lady, Mrs. Lily.
Mrs. Lily led a simple life, as a simple person, in a simple world. Her calm days were disturbed only by the light worries of her minor troubles.
Everything was new, and everything was old for Mrs. Lily until, one day when a strange event took place.
While preparing a meal, she opened the fridge to grab some olives, only to find, to her surprise, that they were gone.
‘No olives left?, she wondered, puzzled. ‘But I bought some yesterday...’
Thinking she might have forgotten to buy them or lost them in the shop, she dismissed the thought and settled for some pickled carrots instead.
The next day, however, the scene repeated itself. This time, the candied fruit she could have sworn she’d seen in the fridge the night before had disappeared.
‘That is indeed curious!’ she thought, frowning as she suspiciously inspected the mischievous fridge.
‘So curious...’
Two days passed without any strange occurrences.
She had almost forgotten about the mysterious disappearances until it struck again.
While preparing a salad, she reached into the fridge for the jar of pickles, but it was nowhere to be found. She searched left and right—nothing. Yet she knew it had to be there; she had placed it there herself, especially for the salad. Unable to find it, she began rummaging through the fridge extremely determined.
‘It must be here somewhere! I put it in with my own two hands!!!’
She almost climbed entirely into the fridge but found nothing—not a trace of the pickles.
‘Someone’s stealing my food! This can’t be happening!’
She ate her salad, without pickles, sitting on a chair, in front of the fridge and mentally investigating it.
‘My food... Where’s my food?’ she seemed to ask the fridge, which stared back at her impassively.
Mrs. Lily started keeping lists of what she bought and what disappeared. On the list of ‘missing in action groceries’ the same items kept appearing: olives, pickles, candied fruit, water, and milk.
Milk made it onto the list when, after just two days, five out of the six cartons of milk she had bought vanished. Looking at the empty fridge and the single lonely milk carton remaining, she muttered in dismay:
‘At least my thief eats healthy... Good for them...’
Unable to bear the situation any longer, she began keeping watch over the fridge. By any means necessary, she had to figure out what was happening and regain her peace.
And one night, she finally discovered the truth!
She heard a rhythmic crunching coming from the fridge, periodically followed by sounds of satisfaction. She tiptoed closer, as quietly as she could, her heart pounding, and slowly opened the door. She froze.
On one of the fridge shelves sat a little leprechaun, happily munching on her pickles! Hers, not his—hers!
She watched as he nibbled with his chubby little hands, radiating happiness, and then smacked his lips contentedly. She couldn’t find her words; she was furious but also astonished.
To her surprise, the leprechaun noticed her but made no move, didn’t get scared, didn’t stop chewing, didn’t even flinch. When he finished the last pickle, he leaned against the fridge wall, saying satisfied:
‘Good pickles. You should buy more! Can I have some milk?’ he asked, burping delicately to make it clear he was too full to exert any effort himself.
‘The audacity!’ thought Mrs. Lily.
Yet, as if hypnotized by the gourmand leprechaun, she opened a carton of milk and poured it into the smallest glass she could find, handing it to him.
They sat there for a while, looking each other up cautiously, and then they began to chat. And they talked until the dawn of the new day.
This is how Mrs. Lily learned that the fridge leprechaun had chosen her. He had visited others before but hadn’t been pleased with what he found.
At her place, though, he was happy—she had good food, a no-frost fridge, and a cozy home. A beautiful friendship blossomed between Mrs. Lily and the fridge leprechaun.
In times much like ours, in a city similar to ours, in a small apartment in a tall building, live Mrs. Lily and her fridge leprechaun, happily together. Now, they plan their meals together, the leprechaun takes out the empty wrappers, and they spend their peaceful days together.
An unlikely friendship born out of an other-worldly encounter.
I've had some little green fridge leprechauns myself. But usually, after about two weeks or so, I throw them out. If I wait any longer, they start peeing all over themselves and stink so bad that I believe they would infect the whole fridge.