Call it magic, call it true, 
I call it magic when I’m with you…


It’s a tradition for me to post on July 4th, sending love out to the interweb. Anachel is a fictional story I’m working on, but it’s inspired by true events. You can decide the fact from the fiction. I hope you enjoy as it’s tough to read just a snip-it, however, we all have that place we go to imagine the world between, where wishes, hopes and fantasies collide into one big beautiful dream. Welcome to dream-time, this for the wishers, the hopers, the lovers and seekers of truth…this is for you. May you be the bright constellation of all your hopes and dreams.



Sitting here, letting my toes burrow into the cool soft sand, I wonder what the night has in store. This has been so surreal, the world of wishes and my personal guide. Who would have ever thought such a place could exist? And this beach! It is one of the most tranquil beaches I’ve ever taken in. Looking out to the ocean, hearing the waves gently lap in, the rhythm soothes me as all of life’s stressors fade away; the decisions I have to make, the direction to take, and the little voice inside that is getting more persistent. You know the voice, the one that silently whispers to do more. For me, that means to do more than simply fulfilling the jewelry designs that my father and his father have carried out for generations, but to create my own. I even have a name for my budding, wishful, business, Imagine Designs. Who would’ve thought that fateful night of signing up for a profile on Creative Commons would have led me here, to Abby, to my inner dreams, my passion and creativity, my soul’s expression. It seems so simple, and yet not so easy. I’ve been quite content in my discontent for so long, it’s hard to forge new paths, new journeys. But I feel I must. There’s a spark in my eyes again, a yearning to come alive rather than the lather-rinse-repeat like existence I’ve had. Sighing while sifting the tawny sand through my fingers, I wonder where Abby is; he’s usually here by now. A sudden movement in the sky captures my attention, hmmm, I thought I had the beach to myself. It looks like bird with its wingspan, but the there’s a long tail, more like a dragon, that undulates with the flow. I watch transfixed as it soars in the sky, looping up and down like a roller coaster to suddenly change trajectory, heading towards me. As it comes closer I see a mix of a peacock and dove; beautiful teal tail feathers fanning out like a Chinois fan, paired with strong white wings. Squinting my eyes I see something in its beak. Before I know it, the elegant bird lands right next to me, looking me in the eye. I can see intelligence and grace staring back. I feel a silent communication pass between us.


“It’s okay, I’m a messenger in the world of wishes,” she articulates. “And this is for you, my dear.”


As she passes the scroll over to me I can’t help but wonder, who uses those anymore except to convey a specific aesthetic? I carefully untie the golden ribbon holding the spindle ends together; I roll it open gently, as I do not want to tear the fine papyrus. Once open I realize, it’s blank?


“Umm, there are no words, I’m not sure I understand the message?” But as soon as I say that, I see the faintest golden light beginning to write fine script on the page, it just appears as if a quill from the world of wishes suddenly has something to say.


“Good evening, Anachel. Enchante.”


“Hello, Abby.” I can’t help but smile. This is just so him, the grand entrance of a bird, a scroll with a magic message and, even though I read the words, I can feel them in my heart as if his heart just spoke with mine. Ah, that reminds me of a song by Alison Krauss… it’s amazing how you can speak right to my heart, without saying a word you can light up the dark… those lyrics always spoke to me, but now they hold a special meaning for I know just how that feels, heart strung messages. Such is the world of wishes. I feel an electric warmth flow through me, as if Abby can feel this too, this resonant connection.


Out of nowhere I hear a pop and am met with the cheeriest daisy that has sprouted up through the sand. A daisy? On a beach? It wasn’t there before. Ahhhh, Abby. He’s sending me flowers and he knows how I adore daisies, so simple and pure, often underrated in floral bouquets. I can’t help but run my fingers through the delicate snow-white petals and the bright sunny center, it’s soft like a cashmere infinity. Suddenly, I dozens of daisies pop up, I’m surrounded by them.


“Quite the bouquet, Abby.” I say out loud, confident he’ll hear or at least know what I’ve said. Sitting here, I feel like a little girl who happened upon a meadow filled with flowers, overtaken by nature’s bounty and yet, this was all brought here, by a thought, a wish from a man who is tunneling deep within my heart and soul. There’s a golden glow coming from the scroll, oooh another message!


Carefully picking it up, I still think it’s going to fall apart if handled too roughly, I see the message appear.


“I hope you like them, they remind me of you, elegant and pure. I must ask though… will you join me on an adventure tonight?”


“Of course, Abby. You don’t have to ask.”


“Why yes I do, a gentleman always asks a lady. Now, sit tight, I’ll be there soon, but first…”


What else? What else could that man have up his sleeve? Picking a few flowers, I stare out at the waves, hoping they can give me a clue about what he’s up to. Before I know it, I’m weaving a floral crown, I’ve always wanted to do that as a young girl, but never took the time or was afraid I’d be found too prone to flights of fancy. Who needs a floral crown? Well, suddenly, I do. I can’t even count all the times I’ve held myself back from something because I worried what another would think. And I have this field of daisies, on the beach no less. What better time than now? Plucking another one to tie the two ends together, I see a delicate butterfly with gilded wings perched close by. Its wings gently flapping as it rests. Finishing my crown, I feel so at peace while absentmindedly wondering of the life of a butterfly. To fly anywhere, landing on beautiful things, drinking in the sweet nectar of life. Placing my finished crown on my head, I see the butterfly flitting my way, only to land on my right wrist, feather-light. Looking down I see a film pass between us; all the sites and sounds she’s taken in during her life. At the end, she gently lowers her wings then encircles my wrist. Before I realize what has happened I have an intricate bracelet in the image of the butterfly, just as light and airy, but eternal.


“Oh Abby, it’s lovely!” I call out, eager for him to join me as this night is ripe with magic, I can feel it. Hmmm, that makes me wonder, what should I wear? His gestures have not clued me into what we’ll be doing, but he did call it an adventure. I want to look my best but also appropriate for the occasion. Maybe it’s not so important as I can change what I’m wearing anytime here. Ha! What a fabulous Stitch Fix in the world of wishes. That thought comforts me as I think about the latest Sundance Catalog sitting on my coffee table at home. There’s a page I dog-eared, thinking the breezy white linen dress would be perfect for a friend’s upcoming wedding. It’s draped, with layers cascading from a simple tank bodice. I even have another page marked; only this one had a pair of champagne leather wedge sandals, giving me a bit more height, which is always a plus. Voila, this would be perfect date attire. Looking down I see I’m wearing the outfit, only I don’t know how I look in it. While I try to dress for how I feel rather than simply look, I want this to match me.


After that thought, an antique large oval mirror appears floating in front of me, like the one the wicked stepmother of Snow White used to see who was the fairest of all, only I’m not looking for the fairest, just me. Looking up I see fine crystal chandeliers light the dusk sky only with sparkler bulbs, igniting glittering arcs from the suspended light fixtures.


“My my, you think of everything, don’t you?” I whisper, wondering if he can feel the awe paired with a bit of fear. Can I handle this type of connection? He just knows me, targets me with petite golden arrows hitting the right spot every time, even if it brings up the painful memories I need to let pass. Looking in the mirrored glass, I can’t believe it’s me. There’s color in my cheeks and a spark in my own eyes sending out glittering arcs within me, I feel it. I feel alive. What is this feeling? It’s new and so very foreign to me. Looking down at my wrist, I feel a little tear escape as I know that when I wake up, this will all be gone and become a mere memory folding into time.


“Little love, don’t think that way.” Abby says while reaching his hand to wipe away the tear from my cheek.


His voice brings me back to the present. Ah, clever, the mirror helped him make his way to me. He’s in a linen gray suit, his eyes bright and hair a bit tousled, as if he’s been a bit unsure about this too, this deepening connection of ours. Behind him I see a sailboat outlined in twinkling globe lights, a floating constellation.


Reaching down, he lightly touches my daisy crown. I lower my head a bit, feeling self-conscious about this girlish display.


“No, don’t. It suits you, a floral halo fit for an ethereal angel. I almost expect wings to grace me with their presence. And, if I may say, you’re glowing, love.”


“That’s the sparkling chandeliers, Abby.” Only I feel he’s right, I am glowing and it’s a growing spiral from my heart.


“Ha! You’re making the light, love. It surprises me that you don’t think of that as an option.” His eyes hold mine with that last thought, a light maker. Hmmm. I’m not so sure that’s how my friends and family would describe me.


“So, what are we up to tonight?” I say, feeling like I need to redirect his attention, from me to something else, anything else. I don’t know what to do with such compliments. They, too, are foreign to me.


“I’d like to take you on a cosmic adventure, in the Admiral.”


“The Admiral?” I ask, not following this reference.


“Yes, my boat is an Admiral Cat, so I call it The Admiral. You know how we like to name our toys.” Grinning at me I can’t help but smile back. He’s showing his boyish charm, like a little boy playing with his boat in the bathtub. It matches my floral crown.


“Haha, yes, I do know of that. I would love to, Abby. This sounds like an adventure I’m not soon to forget!”


“That’s what I’m aiming for, love. Now, come with me.” Extending his arm, I loop mine through, feeling like a couple straight out of a vintage film. It’s then I realize, he’s a true romantic, but one mostly from the minds of women or fictional pages than the harsh reality. These days you’re lucky if you get a movie and nice conversation before a tongue is down your throat and hands fondling you. It’s not like we don’t want that, but you have to show that you deserve to enjoy us that way, it’s not a given, but a gift that we give to those who we feel extend us the same.


“Hey there, don’t go backwards into the past, love. Stay here in the present with me. Did you feel the world of wishes dim a bit? That’s your feelings surfacing. I know they’re there, I feel it, Anachel, but you can’t let it take over, let it go and go with the flow. You aren’t feeling that way, it’s your thoughts clouding such. Happiness is a conscious choice.


“I know, but don’t you ever have that, a happy thought that is tinged with a sad border?”


“Yes, I do.” His voice soft. I know there’s more there. But I won’t push. I won’t ruin this night with my inquisitive nature that demands to know more. He’ll tell me, when its time.


Smiling and looking right into his eyes, “I’m ready for this adventure, Abby. It’s already been such a ride, from the fanciful bird to the daisies, a magic scroll and this golden butterfly cuff. And, finally, your entrance…”


“It’s a choose your own adventure, too, Anachel. I’ll present you with a choice and you will guide the way. Nothing is hands-off. The first thing that comes to you, follow that. Your mind is bridled with logic, we must break through and find the inner child; the one with pigtails doing cartwheels wearing floral crowns rather than longing to through suppressed desires. This is your night.”


“Our night, Abby. I want you to fulfill some of your inner hopes too.”


“Haha, just being with you fulfills any wish I may have ever sent to the universe.”


“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”


“Well, it’s true. Now let me help you into the boat. I don’t know how women wear heels, but I don’t want you to fall into the ocean and ruin your dress.”


“Or my crown. I want to keep this crown forever.” Touching it softly so as to not crumple the petals, I step onto the Admiral.


“Then you should make one, Anachel-belle. I know you have dreams of designing your own jewelry, you should. What do you have to lose?”


“Ah, you caught that. Yes, Imagine Designs, I hope to, Abby, someday.”



And if you were to ask me
After all that we’ve been through
“Still believe in magic?”
Well yes, I do”