Saturday, March 19, 2011


Jonathon and his new bride breathed in the chill air. This night was her first time ever out of the compund. She was born there, the daughter of a witch. Not merely a follower of the Wiccan religion, but a true power, a beacon of enchantment. They found her on the streets one night about twentyeight years ago. She was heavy with child. the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau had been observing her for years. But they were afraid to come too close, for a fire-starter this one was. And none were eager to be singed. Yet even a witch faces challenges. The stress of pregnancy did her in. She could not focus. She could not concentrate the light. And in her weakness they descended upon her, spiriting her off to the underground establishment. Doctor Franklin worked his tricks on her. A spark applied here. A chord from the Armonica aimed there. He took notes, lots of notes. But they could find nothing. There seemed to be no physical explanation for the wonders she achieved. So they left her alone, never again to see the sun. The child, a girl as you know, was taken from her. Oh, she saw her passing in the corridors and here and there. Sometimes a hug. Other times a tear. But the girl did well without the witch. Well, I don't know why they continued calling her a witch. The powers never came back. She never worked a miracle again. When she got sick, when she got cancer, the best scientists and physicians (naturally part of the Bureau) could do nothing for her, so she died and was fed to the sharks in another part of the complex. Still, the girl-child thrived. A bright one, she was. Paid attention to everything. Remembered everything. Took it all in. Wrote it all down. They schooled her well, they did. Learned her languages, Spanish, French, Russian, lately a bit of Mandarin too, I'm told. And needless to say, the sciences were not neglected.. She did become a medical doctor. That part was no lie. But she heard tales of her mother. She heard about the powers. And she hungered for them. When Jonathon came in she studied him, focusing on every movement and nuance. She knew. She understood. This was the way. This was the one. Her mother would live again. The power would live in her. And an eightteen year old (in appearance anyway) Andalisian aristocrat would do it. So she befriended him. She 'loved' him. And he gave her the night-gift. She had it now. They stood together on the roof of a former naval observatory, gazing at the moon. Jonathon told her it  was larger than usual. Over thirty thousand miles closer to its sister world it was. And 'the rabbit in the moon' as subjects of The Middle Kingdom called it. was big, sharp and easy to behold. He looked at her. He watched her hair blow in the wind. Like a statue she was. Like a 'Marianne.' Like an emblem of France.And he did love her...after a fashion. She comforted him in his loneliness. So now she was as he was. So now they were together. He kissed her, but her eyes were on the great, wide world......What is  your name? - he whispered, What do they call you?.....At first she was silent. He squeezed her. He hugged her. In truth, I'd guess she didn't want to tell him. Kept it private for so long. Maybe it was a mental issue with her. I don't know. Spirits don't know everything. You know they got locks on some of these doors in the Akoshic Record they do. And I can't slip through all of 'em....So she looks up at the swollen, ivory, moon and she quietly answers - Luna.......He smiles.....She says - I'm told it was a favorite of my mother's. You know she was a great witch and could do many things.......Just at that moment two shooting stars streaked across the firmament. Jonathon chuckled and said - Did you do that?.....Perhaps I did - she whispered. Perhaps I did...........Then he took her by the hand and lead her down the stairs. They ran out into the city, there to eat their fill..........

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