“And what happened to the changelings, Papi?” The boy asked. “Where did they go?”

He waited to answer, theatrically stoked the fire a little. “They are gone, Schatzi. Poof!” He made the gesture with his hand. “We do not know where.”

The boy’s eyes trailed off in wonder. A fey glimmer. Soon it would be night. He broke more sticks on the fire, watched the boy from under his brow.

– Joseph Pfeffer

Author’s Note: In my recent reading and writing, I have been developing an appreciation for subtext and what remains unsaid in a piece of fiction. When writing ‘Changeling,’ I knew I wanted to write something about some brand of inimical folk mythology, but for me the heart of narrative lies in human interaction, so I made it about that: the subtext hints at the myth, though what is presented is the minutiae, the words and actions of the boy and his father.