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Jem was vaguely considering the contents of the fridge while he waited for the kettle to boil. No amount of staring was making anything in it look that appetizing though, and the baker’s opposite would have warm rolls by the time he took a break. He hooked out he open milk bottle and swung the door shut. A picture caught his eye. Pushing back the mass of papers that were overlapping it, he gave himself a clear view. It was all laughter and closeness: shared thoughts and perfect trust. Beautiful, delicate things, although the him in the photo wouldn’t know that yet.
Thinking back, that would have that May week they’d spent with that group, up on the South Downs – humans, but open to ‘freaky shit’ and better informed than most. And they certainly knew how to celebrate Beltane in the true spirit – free and wild and strong. Some of the shop’s flakier human customers would talk at length about visualization, and how surrounding yourself with images of that which you desired would help you reach your goals. Which is hokum. Accurate internal visualization of the process, hard won charms and a goodly dose of actual ability is more like it. But for a second he could let the thought cross his mind. Because that’s where he wanted to be again, carefree and happy in those arms.
The kettle hissed and whined, bringing him back to himself. Water splashed into the spice sugar and milk, and he was off down the stairs, taking the heavy mug of tea with him.
Thinking back, that would have that May week they’d spent with that group, up on the South Downs – humans, but open to ‘freaky shit’ and better informed than most. And they certainly knew how to celebrate Beltane in the true spirit – free and wild and strong. Some of the shop’s flakier human customers would talk at length about visualization, and how surrounding yourself with images of that which you desired would help you reach your goals. Which is hokum. Accurate internal visualization of the process, hard won charms and a goodly dose of actual ability is more like it. But for a second he could let the thought cross his mind. Because that’s where he wanted to be again, carefree and happy in those arms.
The kettle hissed and whined, bringing him back to himself. Water splashed into the spice sugar and milk, and he was off down the stairs, taking the heavy mug of tea with him.
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