The cat stood watch at the foot of the bed while his witch thrashed and screamed. An empty glass bottle bounced from the bed to scatter into shards across the floor.
Her flesh roiled, sometimes skin, sometimes scales. Her bones creaked like old wood. And at times, her eyes were wide and full of fire.
The cat understood only a little. He knew she was changing. He knew she was afraid. And he knew he loved her.
So he kept watch and waited to see what she would become.
Image by Hilda Roberts from Pixabay.… Read more
What the researchers discovered was that magic came not from humans, but from animals. Or rather, from the relationship with them.
Those who gave their cats warm affection developed magic of shadow and illusion.
Those who played and pranced with their dogs developed the ability to heal and energise.
Those who sat quietly with their snakes became powerful diviners, and those who were kind to their mice could teleport.
But, the studies showed, more animals didn’t necessarily mean more magic. What mattered was that you loved them, and spent time with them.
And to be cruel or neglectful for the sake of your magic would twist you in horrible ways.… Read more
It was as simple as clicking a few boxes on their site.
‘Internet’s Mail-Order Magic Letters: Bring some magic into your life!’
They didn’t ask for an address, or payment details. It seemed harmless enough.
Then came the letters.
The first opened in a spray of glitter that dissipated into the air. ‘CONFIDENCE!’ it read. She negotiated a promotion that day.
The next unfolded itself in her hands, and crooned bedtime stories from a small illustrated mouth. She got her first full night’s sleep in weeks.
Then the next held ‘good luck’ coins. She gave them to a beggar, who hugged her on the street the next day, their fortunes turned.… Read more
It started slowly, as most Awakenings do.
She would hum as she brushed her sisters hair, and sparks would fly from the brush.
She would whistle to her hounds, who would race to her side with the speed and silence of ghosts.
She would gaze across the stormy sea and scream her frustration into the wind.
Then came the song. And the feathers. And the fury.
But when she sang people to throw themselves into the crushing tides, only the cruel ever listened.
Image by Noupload from Pixabay.… Read more
The ritual began with paint.
Smeared across the eyes, across the lips, exaggerating the features, exaggerating the magic.
Then a nose to draw the eye: look here. Look at me. A mind-snare, but with a gentle purpose.
The rest varied: there might be hair, feather-fine and rainbow-hued. There might be shoes like flippers for land, to give the agility to fall *just* so.
But always, the paint and the nose.
Look at me.
It was a spell to fill a heart with laughter.
Another microfiction for Mastodon. Image by Ulrike Leone from Pixabay.… Read more
It’s dark. Rain rolls and bounces through the forest canopy and chimes against the windows of their little hut.
They don their coat and hood, fill their pockets with pebbles, and trudge out into the wet.
As they walk, they whisper. Each whisper goes with a pebble: lodged in the roots of an old tree; dropped in a puddle, newly formed; buried in the dirt with muddy fingers.
Each pebble is a wish, and when lightning cracks the sky, they’ll know that one has been granted.
A microfiction for Mastodon! Even micro-er than usual. ^_^
Image by cpphotographies from Pixabay.… Read more