United States

girl who likes flowering trees and cats.
biopic drawn for me by my dear friend "bogsoup"

Message from Writer

"Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival."
C. S. Lewis

Temporal Permeance

February 5, 2021

PROMPT: Memory Object

  In front of me, right in front of me- there's this owl. Okay, it's not an owl. Well it is, I mean, it's a lamp. It's about the length of my wrist to fingertips. It's about the widest of my little brother's wrist to fingertips. It's this more-or-less white color, with a black tiny beak and indents on the plastic to show feathers. Its eyes are bigger than my thumbs, huge black pupils that slip into an almost greenish-yellow. 
    It lights up. Or it used to. Back when I first got it middle school, it was as vibrant--actually, hold on. I haven't turned it on in years.
    I turn off my desk light and switch the little black knob on its bottom- the knob is so little I can press it into my fingernail and it scratches my skin. It's lighting up now. And actually- it's really pretty. The colors are mottled and dim technically, but they don't feel mottled and dim. They pulse and change every few seconds, green, teal, blue, purple, whiteish, orange, green. Their continuous change makes them interesting, and though the batteries should be run out they aren't really. Some of the shades ARE rich and pretty. It's a cute toy. 
    My best friend in middle school and I both used to love Harry Potter. For every birthday she got me Harry Potter jewelry and gifts, this was a Hedwig lamp. It's ironic because an owl tamer came to our school once, said he had the owl that played Hedwig with him. I hadn't read the books yet, I especially hadn't watched the movies. I thought the whole presentation was lame and never met the Hedwig-actor.
    My birthday is going to pretty soon. I wonder about giving gifts now. Maybe my Hedwig-owl will be infused with that childhood magic. Maybe she'll shake out the indents in her plum-shaped body, and they'll turn into thick, downy wings. Maybe she'll shake her head, and fix those eyes- now sparkling with will power, on my own. Maybe she'll let me tie letters and gifts to her now real feet, and will soar through my window through the night, and bring my tidings to my friends. 
    Or maybe she'll just continue to glow. And my friends will see her light shining through my window. 
    Who knows? 
    It's magic


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  • anemoia (#words)

    Hey, here’s the song “A Beautiful Ache” with ukulele! I also just published it.

    3 months ago
  • anemoia (#words)

    aw i loved this. i felt this sense of hope. which is one of the best forms of magic anyway.
    re: really?! thank you!

    3 months ago