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A quote: “The language of excitement is at best picturesque merely. You must be calm before you can utter oracles.” ~~ Henry David Thoreau
I’ll start with a story …
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“I will not panic.”
She repeated the mantra, calming her racing heart, knowing her Key-yu would beat her senseless if he caught her in such a state. Without control she put herself, and others, in danger. It was difficult to in-gather herself when she could hear her pursuers. She briefly wondered if she had pushed too far this time.
Then the calm rolled over her and she could see the next path. A difficult one – yet …
Unerringly, she moved towards the spot & brushed away forest debris. The liquid faintly glowed, the promised key.
“This time …” she thought.
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Now, it’s your turn …
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. featured image, Adobe Stock, standard license
Jalan says: She walked aimlessly as the weight of the world was on her shoulders.
How was she going to care for her children? How was she going to pay rent? When would things get back to normal?
And then a voice on the wind “Olly olly oxen free!”
Suddenly she was 9 again and the playground beckoned. Down the slide and round the merry-go-round she went. Swinging higher and higher until she felt as if she could almost could touch the sky!
Then the voice again “it’s gonna’ be all right…”
She walks home with a smile.
Olly Olly oxen free!
Cameron says: When we were little, we found a bottle in the park. We washed it out and filled it with lemonade. That night, we sat in the park as the fireflies danced around us. She said it was magic and that drinking it meant we’d stay together.
Years passed, we got married somewhat young but we didn’t care. The bottle came with us and we’d fill it and watch the fireflies.
She wasn’t even 25 when the cancer took her from me. I wanted to give into despair but I found the bottle. I filled it with lemonade and went to the park to watch the fireflies. I think it really was magic.
[…] He ran through the forest toward the bingo point. Got to get back to the Moon. No time to worry about why the mission failed. Shot through the arm. No time for pain. Run. The full moon provided enough light as the clearning emerged. Glancing leg shot. Dogs barking as they scented his blood. Green glow of the Transport Potion. Shot blew off his other arm and he fell beside it. Losing blood rapidly, he picked it up. The glow attracted a shot, and the bottle vanished with his hand, showering him in the Oil of Transport, returning him moonward. . . — via Darleen […]
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