 | There
is a moment, when your feet touch a chilly wooden floor, your hands
brush against a wooden rail. The sunlight streams through a window so
you can see the dust dancing. It's a moment when everything is perfect,
a moment you cannot describe no matter how hard you try. You feel
secure and safe within your home, like you're wrapped in a warm blanket
yet at the same time connected to everything around you as if you were
standing in the middle of the forest. It is in these moments that you
have connected to something ancient, something magical.
Fern
felt the gentle warmth of the early morning sun drift through the
window to touch her face, but she resisted the urge to allow her eyes
to pop open immediately even as anxious as she was too start her day.
Instead she sniffed the air to make certain that no one was watching,
she knew that Fletcher and her parents would check on her now and again
like worried mother hens. It had been a little over two months now
since Fern had been ‘chosen’ by a swarm of fairies and spirits. Which
is to say that they’d possessed her and nearly driven her mad before
Fletcher had saved her, not by removing the spirits but by helping her
learn how to control them. |
