The full moon hung in a strange dark blue, smoke cloudy sky. The silvery light fell on a metal sign in the shape of a large grey, wizard hat, which rose high above a huge hotel.
The sign shimmered letting out a pulse of magical energy which rippled through the air. Everyone who knew even a bit of magic, felt the pulse no matter where they were and they all took off towards the hotel.
Soon, witches on broomsticks with their animal familiars landed in the car park. Wizards arrived in clouds of sparkling dust. Mages, sorcerer/ess, warlocks, enchanters, alchemists, seers, druids and loads of other magical sensing people arrived across the hours in all kinds of ways including; magic carpets, red flames, blue flames, snowstorms and miniature hurricanes.
Everyone gathered in the gigantic underground hall, lit be flickering candles and awaited for the Magic Council to assemble and announce why they had all been summoned.
Finally, one of the High Wizards rose and addressed the gathered, ‘there is a crises,’ he croaked, ‘magic is dying and we must do everything we can to save it.’
A murmur went around the room then a young witch’s voice rose, ‘then let us all work together to fix it.’
My great-grandfather had been a glass blower, like his father before him and the cottage they lived in had stayed in the family, though my father had broken that line. I hadn’t know my father that well and despite the glass making trade being gone, there was something in my heart and soul that drew me towards it.
I didn’t set out to make any money from my glass designs, it was just a hobby but then it turned out people were interested to own my pieces and before I know it, I had brought my great-grandfather’s trade back to life.
The mall was closing down after forty years, having finally given into crippling debt, so all the shops that were still open were selling everything off.
Not since the first years of opening his small fast food stand, had Pablo been so busy serving hot dogs, burgers and sugared donuts, his stall was the only place left to get food in the mall now.
What would happened to him afterwards? Pablo didn’t know, those were thoughts for the future and he had always been about living in the now, so the mall was closing but there would always be hungry people to feed, he just had to go out and find them.
Lily sat down on the grass next to the river bank and began mediating. She was new to to the activity but had so far found it useful for calming down everything. Normally, Lily would sit on her bedroom floor in the morning and the evening, shut her eyes and try not to think about anything other then her breathing in and out.
Today though, with the weather being so nice and herself feeling restless and depressed, Lily had decided to walk around her local park just for something to do and to get away from the house.
With no real direction, Lily had let herself drift, avoiding the busy playground areas, football field and popular dog exercise spots. That’s how she had ended up in this quiet, hidden area close to the river. It seemed like a good place to take a break.
Lily breathed, trying not to think of anything. All around, nature was singing her song this afternoon for anybody who cared to listen. Lily want with it, letting the sound of the river and birds carry her away.
I sat on the sofa with my dog and flicked through the TV, there wan’t much on and I wasn’t in the mood for anything. I found some re-runs of a murder mystery series and with that in the background, I picked up my knitting project which was a toy teddy bear.
Weeks of being on and off ill had meant I hadn’t got around to finishing it but today could be the day. Settling down, I started knitting, my dog sleeping behind me as she often did on these kind of days.
After a few rows, I pulled more of the wool and noticed it was stuck on something. Turning, I saw that unable to snuggle against me my dog had placed her head on the wool ball as if it was a little cushion.
Feeling mean for waking her up, I slipped the wool ball away from her. She raised her head, seeming confused at being awake.
‘It’s okay, old girl. Come lay on my lap,’ I told her whilst rubbing her head.
She yawned and re-curled against me, going back to sleep once again. I carried on knitting, thinking there was no better therapy then this.
(Photo my own. Please don’t use it without permission.)