Landlady

"It's raining, it's raining," Ella said, as she walked about the house, the day's newspaper clutched in one fist. She said it around the dustbin, as she threw the paper away. The headline read: 'Bad Fortune on the Horizon - Hold on to Lucky Charms!'. She said it to the houseplants, stacked in dark corners around her living room. "It's raining," she said, even as she stomped to her front door. Someone had been knocking on it on and off for half an hour, and she hated listening to people repeat themselves.

She yanked open the door to reveal a goblin standing in the grass.

"Ooh. A little creaky hinge you have there?" The goblin said, clutching the pointed ends of their long, bending ears.

The goblin was green, like many goblins, and had a short, stubby nose. They wore a black travelling cloak, fastened in place by a pin shaped like a flower. They gave a bow and asked if they could stay the night.

Ella was incensed. All she wanted to do was go back into her room and continue writing letters. She had things to say to all the elves living in her high-class properties. One family needed to know that there were no fleas in the bed. They were seeing things, and that was normal after moving continents to escape a tyrannical king. And if there were fleas, they were probably put there by a witch, and so Ella had no legal responsibility to do something about it.

Another couple needed to be told to use their brains and light the complimentary scented candles. The candles could be a makeshift stove, keeping them warm and fed while the dragon nested on their cooking fire. Those tenants even had the nerve to accuse her of negligence. They just did not understand that putting dragon eggshells around the chimney was good for keeping out moisture. She had half a mind to write them a long explanation regarding the alchemy of it all, but here was this goblin interrupting her work. She hissed, loudly. "No, go back to where you came from!"

There had been so many goblins wandering the streets lately. Ella hated their tiny voices and their fungal cuisine. She hated the small, domed-roof houses they built, which didn't match the rest of the Elfwood's architecture and ruined the view.

"If you let me in, I can sleep under your staircase and bring you good luck," the goblin offered, pressing their hands together.

"No. I don't need your luck. I have thirty years' experience in property management, so luck is not a factor. Goodbye."

Ella slammed the door in the goblin's face.

Outside, the rain continued to pour. Ella, deep in her letters, noticed a dripping sound coming from somewhere in the roof, but she ignored it. "It's raining," she muttered to herself. "Of course the water is dripping." She engrossed herself in a letter about how hard it was to change living habits. It was for this elf, who complained about wanting to see the sun again. He said he was used to breathing fresh air, going for walks after lunch, and reading peacefully in the daylight. The thing was, he was living in a luxury miniature home, complete with an en suite toilet made of clay and a bed with bedding Ella had cleaned herself.

She had just written that he should get used to living underground in a dungeon, when she noticed her socks and feet were soaked with water. The drip had become a pour. Water had rapidly filled her bedroom. She watched a candle get carried away by the current, its light going out.

She marched to the door. "I need a ladder. A ladder and something to patch the leak." But when she opened the door, more water gushed into the room, drenching her head to toe. "Why is it flooding? This house is flood-proof." The whole evening she waded through the water trying to find the leak, but it was as if the water was coming in from nowhere. Every roof, every wall was completely sealed. "This house is flood-proof."

Ella looked down. She noticed she could not see any reflections in the water. It glowed slightly, with a strange blue light, and she realised it had to be a magical disaster. Some atmospheric imbalance in fortune, which modern architecture was supposed to handle, even without the presence of 'lucky charms'. She had learnt about it in school, twenty years ago.

Someone was knocking on her front door. She called out without opening it. "What?!"

The answering voice was her neighbour, an elf, saying she could see all the water from her window, and that Ella needed to get out immediately.

Ella huffed angrily. Who did that elf think she was? "It's okay! This is a very good location. It can't flood."

"But it is flooding."

"It's just a leak." The water rose above her chin. "I have thirty years of experience, these kinds of things are not a problem for me."

The next morning, most of the houses in Elfwood displayed a four-leafed clover. From the doors of the ones that didn't, nomadic goblins walked out, stretching and bidding their hosts goodbye. Small puddles adorned the streets from a shower that had started the previous evening and was slowly draining into the soil.

The goblin with the flower woke up refreshed. They had slept under the stairs of a nice elf. It was a beautiful home, with plants by the windows and a long table for hosting many guests. A sweet delicious smell wafted from the kitchen, and the hungry goblin followed it to a plate of freshly-made pancakes.

Their mouth watered. But they wanted to check with the host if it was okay to help themself. They looked around for her and found her staring forlornly through the kitchen window. The house closest to hers, a cottage with white gables, was bursting with streams of water. On the door glowed a series of old protection wards, which were made illegal ten years ago due to concerns about fire safety, especially on days of bad fortune.

"Oh that's a shame," the goblin said. They looked up at the sky to find the rain clouds scattered, already drifting apart.

It looked like it was going to be a sunny day.