The Bottle in the Backyard

The magic began three months ago. Every time.. it’s happened within the city limits. But in the last few days, there have been a couple of occurrences in the suburbs.  It’s one thing when odd stuff happens in a city with so many people living close together, but when the magic migrates past the growth boundaries, that’s something else again. I live three miles outside the suburban town of West Milldale. The magic hasn’t reached me yet. But i’m hoping, waiting, and trying to be patient. How long will it take if it happens at all?  I must sound like i’m an unhappy person, but i’m not. I like my job, and i love living this distance from town. There’s so much development there, but there are many huge trees on my property. There’s less light at night, and i can see the stars clearly.. except on overcast nights of course. This afternoon, i took a long walk around my property, all ninety six acres of it.. with my Aussie, Iris. I decided, while out on this walk, that she and i are taking off early in the morning to look for the magic. I told her, and she barked a couple of times in answer. That means she’s excited. We’re not going into the city though. It’s too crowded on a Saturday. We’ll head farther away from the crowds.. to a little town called Maloney Creek, population two hundred sixty three. Something tells me there’s something special there. I had a dream about the place the other night. My dreams usually mean a lot, so i’m going to go for it! But right now, it’s time for a little dinner, some TV and a glass of wine or two. It’s the perfect Friday night for me.

So i retire to my couch for awhile. Iris is at my feet, i have a glass of pinot noir in my hand, and a plate of leftover spag and meatballs. Friday night is no night to cook. Oh, and an episode or two of Torchwood on the Netflix. And i forgot to mention one thing.. I had my mind so much on our road trip tomorrow. Today on our walk, Iris dug up an old bottle a hundred yards from the house under one of the Doug Firs. It’s a lovely azure blue.  It looks like an old wine bottle.  The cap is pink and cabochon shaped. There’s gold lettering on the side, and the writing says, to the loveliest of all. It’s dirty, and tomorrow when Iris and i return, i’ll clean it up and see what it looks like.  Maybe it’s an antique?  If i can’t have magic, maybe i can have good luck.

I finish my dinner. I make it a half hour watching television, and i feel myself getting sleepy. I lie back on the couch, and Iris goes to her bed.  I left the beautiful bottle on my desk. I see it from the couch. I try to figure why and how it ended up in my yard. No clue.  I decide i’m too sleepy to go upstairs to bed.  I’ll sleep here for awhile.

I drift away. It’s a restless sleep, and i dream. In one dream i’m driving to Maloney Creek, and i stop at the Post Office to mail a letter, but i go in and the place turns out to be a French Restaurant in Paris. Then i turn over, open my eyes and see the bottle on my desk. It’s bouncing up and down.. then it falls over on its side. It rolls off the desk to the floor, but it doesn’t break on the hardwood floor. When it lands, the cover comes off on its own. I tried to get the cover off when i brought it in, but it wouldn’t budge. The bottle rolls to the center of the room. It’s as if i’m hypnotized and can’t get up from the couch to retrieve it. That’s when this turns into the most magical dream ever. Three puffs of lavender smoke emerge from the bottle. When the smoke clears.. i see the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen. Long dark hair. Big brown eyes. Shirtless and tanned. Wearing a pair of blue jeans. And.. well.. this part is not sexy.. he’s wearing a pair of black crocks on his feet. This makes me laugh out loud in my dream.  It breaks the mood, and i dream no more.

I start awake as the sun is coming up. I neglected to pull the shades last night before i drifted off. Iris isn’t in her bed. She’s in the kitchen. I hear someone cooking. I freak out because, you know, who’s in my kitchen?  Iris appears to be fine with it. So i get up, walk around the corner, and there’s a man in my kitchen. It’s tall, dark, shirtless and sexy making pancakes. Well, sexy except for the crocs. He looks at me and says.. thank you, Sherry, for freeing me. I’ve been stuck in that bottle for four hundred years. Now that i’m out, i can give you anything you desire. You are my loveliest of all.  I hope you like pancakes!

And i think, well, i HAVE been wishing for magic… My wish came true…

By M. Raynes

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5 thoughts on “The Bottle in the Backyard

    1. I actually don’t mind crocs myself, but the guy can’t be perfect, you know? 😀 My better half read this, loved it, but said.. so he’s been in the bottle for 400 years.. but did crocs exist back then? (He’s an engineer and just too logical sometimes.) And i said I tagged it fantasy, sweetie! He got a kick out of that.

      Liked by 1 person

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