Bittersweet and not quite solace

Chapter 1:

Every night at midnight, the purple clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. I watch as they slowly transition from purple to blue to gray. This used to be my favorite time of day; it still is, but… I sigh with both a bit of longing and a bit of appreciation. I can still enjoy what I have while also wishing for the previous days of darting around in the dusk skies, right? Moving away from the window, I stretch, and then gently manifest my wings. My Fae doctor has given me a list of exercises and I have done them diligently for the past week. What I haven’t told anyone is that I’m doing the exercise routine two to three times a day. I’m not going to sit around and be thought of as lazy.

I breathe in the evening air from the open window. It’s just not the same down here. Not as fresh.

Before getting dressed, I want to consult the cards. There are dozens of decks I’ve collected over the years. I used to always use the Sun deck, bright images and hopeful poses. However, since the injury, I’ve found myself using not just the darker, more “serious” artwork, but also being more willing to try the decks that I would seldom use.

Today, I choose one that has a limited color palette. The images are all sketched, as if done in charcoal, but they are busy designs with lots of detail. Each card has six items that have been colored in, using a muted version of the rainbow; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet.

I pick up the box and head to the bed. While it's not my usual cheery deck, this one matches my mood. More down to earth. Yea, I think to myself. Earth. Where I’ll probably be grounded to for the rest of my life. I chose the right deck for my current state of mind. While not depressed, I have definitely been a lot more moody, spending most of my days alone in the room. There are bright spots to my day, like the beauty of the evening clouds, but generally I’ve been a lot more subdued. I’ve lost something. It’s not easy to come to terms with that.

The cards have always been an awkward size for me to just hold and flip through. I toss them all up into the air, close my eyes, and breathe out slowly. I inhale slowly and imagine them swirling around, the back of every card facing me, arranged in rows, surrounding me in a circle, lazily rotating. I exhale slowly and push the image from my mind and I watch the cards obey; lifting themselves up and taking up in nice orderly rows. I smile a bit. This is one of my favorite ways to begin a day.

The little bit of magic that I use isn’t common. Most Fae can’t sustain telekinesis for more than a minute. I have been known to absent-mindedly read a book for hours on my back, holding it above my head and turning the pages with a relaxed swipe of my hand. It’s been very useful the few times I’ve tried to cook a special recipe and my hands are full to move to the next page. It isn’t a precise skill. I certainly wouldn’t try to use it to measure ingredients. I cringe at the mental image of trying to pour vanilla into a teaspoon and the mess it would make. Vanilla isn’t a cheap ingredient, either.

My attention is back on the cards. In my daydreaming, I had let my concentration falter a bit and a few had fallen to the ground. That was a bit disappointing. Most of the time I can manage all 78 cards, but I guess today isn’t one of those days. I make a motion with my right hand to pick them up and place them in a pile on the desk. I’ll choose from the ones still in the air. There are 3 rows. I swipe away the top and the bottom rows. I’m feeling frustrated and somewhat trapped without my ability to fly, so the middle row it is today. There are 17 cards left.

I inhale and focus. I don’t want to be this frustrated. I also don’t want to accept that I’ll never be able to fly again. That’s not…I just can’t think about that now, that’s too many feelings to deal with. I open my eyes, more upset than when I closed them, which is the opposite intent of that breathing exercise. More cards have fallen to the floor. That makes me sigh again and actually feel more down. The rest of the cards start slowly moving to the ground. I grab one before it reaches the floor, annoyed with my mopey mood and let the rest just fall.

The image is of a woman with her hands in front of her and head tilted up to the sky. There is the spirit of a ballerina emerging from her, as if she’s bringing her dream into reality. I’m a little confused as to which card this is and after contemplating it on my own for a bit, I go to the artist’s notes. I match the image and read the description. Ah, here it is; awakening, understanding…self-acceptance. Tears are suddenly in my eyes with their telltale sting. I’m not ready for this. It’s not my fault, I did my best…

The fine print of the card is just a reminder of my current harsh reality. Judgment.