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The hollow hole in the tree contained one knife, one piece of rope and one replicator.
The bird, sitting on the twisted tree branch, looked around and seeing no one flew to the
hole in the tree. He morphed into a man again or should I say he transformed, for the
change was so fast that no human eye could follow it. He tucked the knife and rope into a
pocket of his old black coat, in the other pocket he put the replicator. On the collar, he
put the speaker button, knowing that he could pull anything out of this pocket with just a
whispered command into this button.
His friends thought the coat magic and he never told them different. He enjoyed their looks of amazed wonder when he could pull such diverse things out of this "magic pocket". And he never kept the replicator in just one pocket but changed it so the friends thought all the pockets "magic". Why mess up a good thing? No one thought that the "real" magic was actually the man, himself, for in him dwelled the magic of words, stories and more. He could captivate an audience with a tale. He could make the eyes of a she light up with just a smile and a word whispered to her, such magic this man possessed within his very soul. Tho he was blind to it, several she's saw and were drawn to it's glow. Like fireflies, they fluttered near to him. Had he been a spider he could have enticed them into his silken web. He could have devoured them and they would have gladly have given him everything.
In the clearing a small campfire burned with a strange light. He had come to see what creature had lit this small light in such a dark place. Huddled by the warmth was a she, a small fairy being with droopy wings was sitting there with her legs drawn up close to her chest and her arms wrapped around her bent legs. She watched the fire cast shadows all around, her tear stained face was pale in the flickering firelight. She was lost in her own thoughts as he walked into the open camp. Startled, she gasped, then seeing the glow within him, she invited him to sit by her fire and be warmed.
At first they were silent but little by little she began to trust this stranger. They talked on into the night, he seemed able to draw out her deepest secrets. Such was his glow that she found herself fluttering closer towards him, and on and on they talked until the small fire was but embers. The night had grown cold and the she was chilled, but she found a warmth in him that made her want to always be close to this dark clad stranger. Time seemed to stand still for them but soon came the parting, her back to her former life and he back to his. Before he left he wanted to give her something and so he emptied his pockets and wrapped the old black coat about her shoulders. Then he walked off into the night. She, thinking to never see him again, slipped her hands into the pockets, hunched her shoulders and walked away. Her left hand brushed something in the pocket and she turned to tell him he had forgotten the notepad she had found there but he had disappeared back into the darkness.
She removed the notepad and in the growing daylight read the words he
had left behind. Her face glowed and her wings straightened once more, her heart soared
with renewed hope for something she thought she would never attain. Yes, this was his gift
to her, the real gift, his words of love.
Luigi DeMuse
Midi: I Swear
Copyright July,1999 by Susan Allen
04/08/2001
