I think, and there it is, a world conjured into existence. I smile. This power given to me has the ability to cause good or evil. Which will I choose?
I think again, and my world is populated with people so different from one another, I wonder where they came from. But there they are. They turn to each other and begin to speak, and I become the outsider, watching to see what will happen.
I turn my gaze away from them and conjure another world, a fantastical world, a place I’ve never been and maybe would not even want to go. It’s full of peril. I populate it with people who have to fight to survive. I’m a little horrified at my creation, and cease my magic temporarily, but magic is intoxicating, addictive, and draws me back. I meddle in the lives of my creatures, needling them and placing them directly in harm’s way. I know most of them will make it out alive.
On a dark day, I create a dark world, full of toxic people, people I would never associate myself with, yet they attach themselves, remnants of them clinging to me like lichen to a tree. In time they will break free, but they will always leave a mark. I withdraw from my conjuring, placing my pen on the table, and stashing my journal. I take time to breathe the fresh air and feel sunlight on my skin.
Magic is powerful business.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Do you Believe inย Magic?.”You have been transformed into a mystical being who has the ability to do magic. Describe your new abilities in detail. How will you use your new skills?
Interesting perspective. When are getting the wand?
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Aka my pen (though I more often use the laptop). Writing is rather magical, don’t you think?
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Yes of course! Very much so ๐
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