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Through the sharp rays of sunlight piercing the dense foliage, a small figure sat on the branch of a tall oak. Its miniature body, clad in a bright costume adorned with multicolored bells, barely caught the eye.
It sat lazily swinging its legs, twirling a small, intricately carved wooden staff in its hands, the tip of which ended in a tiny bell. The sound it made was soft, barely audible amidst the rustling wind. Its eyes — two glimmering dark coals — watched Emma and Jessica as they walked toward the café.
— Ah, best friends forever… — the jester drawled, tilting its head to the side and flashing a toothy grin. — How sweet. How touching.
Slightly swaying one leg and watching as the girls, laughing cheerfully, entered the café, the jester slowly vanished, its grin growing wider.
— Now you're laughing at silly jokes, giggling about boys, treating your friends to coffee. So delicate, so… real. It's almost as if you were never that important, confident man you once thought yourself to be, right, Emm? — The jester tilted its head, its eyes gleaming with mischief. — But you don’t even miss him now, do you? Or… do you?
The jester burst into laughter, its voice echoing and fading among the leaves. For a fleeting moment, it seemed to look straight into Emma’s soul, its smile growing wider, as if it already knew how this play would end.
— Ah, how delightful! You're handling it just perfectly! So genuine, so… honest, Emmie.
And with a final chime of the bell, it disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a faint breeze and a lingering sense of unease.