Under the Rug

Two weeks passed and it happened again, that same bump that comes up under the old living room carpet again. Every other Sunday, when I'm reading the newspaper on the wood chair in the living room I'll see a bump the carpet. It will lift up the rug and move around on the floor. I usually just hold my breath and wait for it to leave because I'm too scared to do anything.
I don't really like to admit it, but it was my wife who usually killed bugs and who went to see what the scary noises were because I was too scared to do any of it. I'm too big of a sissy. But now that my wife is gone, there has been no one here with me in this old worn out house that can do the scary things I never do.
So here I am, on the every other Sunday waiting. I am a little bit curious about the bump in the rug although, I won't be brave enough to do anything about it. What would I do? Tear up the rug and try to discover what it is, and then when I find it, run away in fear and live in my bedroom the rest of my life?
No, I couldn't do that. So I would just wait for it to come and then watch it, making observations and try to decide what it might be.
There it was.
I leaped up from my old wooden chair and hobbled over to the old table that held a single glowing lamp.
There was a slight sound of a giggle, I think and then the bump came up. It fumbled around under the rug, whatever it was and then sat still.
I stared at the bump for a while. A little curious as to what the thing was doing just sitting there.
I couldn't take it any longer. I picked up the old wooden chair and slapped it down on the bump under the rug. And then I heard a tiny little squeal and then a shriek, "Ow!"
I was surprised at the sound of the little female voice and I sat down to hold myself together.
Then there was fumbling under the rug for a while longer and then the carpet ripped. Out from under the rug came a beautiful girl. Tiny she was, and glowing.
She was wearing what looked like little yellow flower petals as a dress and she had white wings that sparkled yellow hints. Her eyes glimmered with beautiful anger and she jungled when she walked, "What do you think you are doing hitting me so hard?"
I didn't answer. All I could do was stare in amazement.
She put her hands on her hips as she stood in front of me glaring, "What did I ever do to you? I certainly didn't smack you, did I?"
I stuttered, "I didn't- I just thought that-"
"You foolish old man. Clean your glasses up and look at me."
I did as she said and then apologized, "I'm sorry I hit you. It is just that there was a bump in the rug and I didn't know what it was, and so I was frightened and I-"
"I understand you old geezer. Just don't do it again."Then she turned away from me and examined her nails.
"What are you?" I asked in amazement.
"What do I look like? I'm a fairy you dimwit."
"Why is it that every other Sunday you come and make a bump in my rug?"
"Every other Sunday is the day my boyfriend comes back from his long trips to some place called Neverland. Thats supposedly a place where magnificent fairies live, that have magical powers besides flying and such."
"Oh yes, I've heard of it."
"Well good for you. Anyways, I go out to see him when he comes to visit and my mother will find me sneaking back into the house. She then sends me up to the attic for punishment, which would be the floor right under your rug."
"You live under my house?"
"Hey buster! We lived here first. Then you decided to plant some big house here. It's not my fault." And with that she fell back through the floor and I didn't see her until two weeks had passed once more.