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Elfos

Seven months ago I moved to a sunny, quiet and beautiful flat in the center of town very near to my work, and at an incredible price. Before signing the contract I investigated as much as possible to find out why the rent was so low. There had to be a reason. I spoke with the porter, the neighbours, the owner, the agency... and they all told me the same thing: "There are elves".

I find it hard to believe that magic exists. Maybe it has something to do with a childhood trauma, I dont know... But I do not think that makes me a bad person.

The story was simple -a typical case of a haunted house. Not because of harmful spirits, grieving souls or anything like that. It seems that it was home to an elf that moved things around, such as taking down the curtains and putting salt in the sugar. Nothing serious, but enough to scare all the previous inhabitants away.

The story was so widespread, that during the first month there were constant visitors. Families, friends, neighbours and known gossips all appeared unannounced. And nothing ever happened. What an anticlimax. Little by little the official rumour of my case began to unfold: I was such a cold person with a dry heart (me?) that the poor elf (a sweet, mischievous and kind character) had left. It got better and better. Who needs salt in one's sugar?

One day I found the neighbour's daughter, she must have been 6 or 7 years old, waiting for me at the door. She held a pink plastic plate and small blue spoon, with a tempting egg flan covered in caramel. "Its for the elf, so that he returns", she said. I thanked her and ate the desert after dinner without thinking twice about it.

Thanks to the girl's determination, I accepted these deserts many nights after that. So many in fact, that I began to feel guilty. I would tell her that the elf had returned, as the deserts were dissapearing from my fridge... One day by coincidence I was next to the girl's mother in the supermarket queue, and after praising her virtues as a cook, I confessed how I was benefitting from the situation. To my surprise, she replied that in fact they were the ones that were benfitting. She explained that the girl had communication problems which had improved thanks to the elf. She asked that I continue the roleplay with the girl and we returned home chatting.

One night, I was on the verge of tucking in to a tasty tiramisu when I heard shouts coming from the staircase. There was a fire. We had to evacuate as quickly as possible. I grabbed what I could and I left running.

My floor was the only one in the building that did not suffer any damage.

Sometimes without realising it, we all need something to believe in.

Note: In England, the best-known elf is called Puck, first cousin of the Irish Phooka or the Welsh Pwca, and it is exactly this mischievous pixie that William Shakespeare used in his work of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream' to quote: "Lord, what fools these mortals be!". Puck is the fool of the fairy kingdom - he mocks the humans, confusing them on their walks, raising tablecloths, pulling the chair when someone is about to sit down... Some versions maintain that it is an elf that is introduced sporadically in human homes.