Wander logo

Sometimes the World Needs a Little Magic!

Dreams

By T RaynePublished 3 years ago 4 min read
1

I do not remember life before the little black book. My first memory is fluttering pages slowly flying over me in my crib. A page removed itself from the binding and began to fold. Fold after fold the page gracefully twisted and spun in the air. Drifting down into my hands it had taken the form of a swan with a long neck and carefully tilted head as if it were sent to watch over me.

So, the years went, the little black book floated in and out of my life often with a sharp pencil as a companion. The pair would gift me with hastily scribbled drawings, folded origami creatures, riddles, poems, and sometimes blank sheets that took days to reveal their contents. These were the pages that delighted and frustrated me. The impatience of a child made the wait often unbearable. Despite the wait, these were the pages with the most knowledge to be gained.

Just when I thought I could wait no longer; the page would reveal itself. Much like a photograph in a darkroom slowly coming to life. A slow and hazy image becoming crisp, dark contrast upon the page. I was pulled into other worlds. Stories, drawings, maps of adventures that belonged only to me. One of my favorite images was sea thrift in bloom peaking over a cliff at the sea and a little map showing me exactly where it existed. I dreamed of lying in the sweet thrift looking out at the sea and listening to the birds call and float on the updrafts. Their calls echoing off the cliffs mingled with the sounds of the waves crashing below.

During all those years, never once did the book ever seem one page less, despite all the treasures it produced. My room overflowed with pages. Hundreds of origami creatures stared down at me from perches. Dresser drawers filled with notes, adventure stories and inspiration that expanded and brought my mind to life with how wondrous the world could be.

As I grew up, the little black book showed itself with less frequency. It would leave cryptic messages. One-word directions. A list of items to assemble. I learned to trust the shared knowledge. The kindness to help me learn and experience a world larger than myself.

My last night of being seventeen, a single sheet fell out of nowhere through the ceiling and landed upon me. Three simple words written, shoes, coat, rucksack. Easy. Assembled.

The morning of my eighteenth birthday I awoke to the soft rustle of pages as the little black book fluttered over my bed. The pencil slowly twitched waiting for the book to release a page. The book instead slowly opened itself and gestured pencil to begin. Pencil glided across the page, though no mark was revealed. The work slow and relished as if it would be the last time they worked together. Two partners and their last master work.

A soft gust came into the room fluttering little black books’ pages. Drawers opened, pages drifted out and assembled themselves like a stack of playing cards shuffling into the correct order. Origami creatures began to float upon the breezy air and gently unfold to join the shuffling stack. The swan, my first gift from the little black book stayed where she was. A whirlwind neatly squared the pages and a needle and thread suddenly appeared to darn them together. One last gyration and the pages flew back into the book, tightly bound. The book floated as light as a feather down upon the floor. The pencil still had a chore to do, beckoning a dark storm cloud ready to burst. The cloud rumbled then rolled across the room. Small pinging noises began as silver and gold began to drop. Coins and paper money from all parts of the world, wafted through the air. The pencil tallied each as it fell. The whirl wind once again blew, and the money lifted into neat stacks and gently deposited itself into the rucksack.

I approached the book and waited for this last page to reveal itself. Slowly, the book opened, flipping through hundreds of pages showing the animals and the worlds to which they belonged. A slow-motion movie of my childhood. The last page revealed, words slowly began to grow visible. Twenty thousand dollars, enough to journey through the world, to their home and my greatest adventure yet.

I put on my coat, tucked the little black book and pencil safely inside the rucksack. I plucked Swan from her shelf, stepped through my door into the world to find that place where the waves crashed, birds called, and sea thrift waited. Together we will peek over the cliff and experience a little magic!

literature
1

About the Creator

T Rayne

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.