Coffee Spell

The Magician was the master, the alchemist transforming energy from one form to the next, the magician was the conduit and the gateway.  It had taken decades to learn and even now, he mused, he was barely scratching the surface.  The master yes but that was always an evolutionary state of being not a title, it was the journey continually into the frontier, the frontier where the answers may be found and where the known became unknown and thus cleared the way for true understanding.  The answer lay in simplicity, always simplicity and then with a movement of his coffee cup, he bought his will to bear and cast the spell.

Later, the old man asked the Magician and the child:

“Where do you get your energy from?”

“It is a gift and I thank the giver for this energy every day by using it, as much as is possible and giving it back!”

The child knew the answer but she had not the words, she just knew and she thought it was a stupid question, didn’t everyone know?

It was a simple spell and he hoped that it would be heard and empowered by the great ones who watched and listened, that this particular spell would make them smile and amuse and delight them, that it would be of service.

The coffee was perfect.

The steam technician was off to work and the fairy that he had seen fleetingly moments before may well re-appear.  The technician would create the spectacle and the others would be drawn to the show.  The fairy?  Well who the hell knew what was in the mind of a fairy but one thing was for sure, where there were fairies, there was magic.  It was time for him to go too.  It was a strange world this one and all the better for it.

 

Copyright Faramond Frie © 2016

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