Thursday, December 14, 2017

Book of the Week: DIVINE KNIGHT


The students from Willis-Brooks College who didn't go home for spring break descended en mass in the afternoon, in search of candy and old movies and used books. Angela let the bustle and laughing voices divert her. She watched them, reading their spirits, seeing who had grown a little more sensitive to the magic pervading the entire town, and who had let their ideas of success and their goals for the future make them a little less aware than the last time they had visited her.

Despite being so late into the school calendar, there were always a handful of students who hadn't come out to visit Divine's yet, and their amazed, confused, fascinated reactions amused her. The ones who shriveled up a little inside themselves as they walked through the shop and sensed the magic waiting to burst out, the thin spots where otherness tried to come through--those particular students made her want to cry a little more than usual, when she saw someone resist the call of magic. If they would listen and open their eyes and other senses to the wonder around them, the potential for magic in their lives, they could embark on amazing, fulfilling lives.

But there were always a few who sensed the silent song of magic, and resisted, closing their ears and souls to it. They wouldn't come back to Divine's again this school year, and they likely would transfer to another college next year. Saying no in their spirits to Divine's Emporium changed them in some way, so that living within the boundaries of Neighborlee became like itching powder constantly sifting through their clothes, or a mosquito hum by their ear. They would flee the irritation. As always, witnessing this pivotal moment in those strangers' lives and knowing how they would choose broke Angela's heart. Yet today, for some reason, it hurt more than ever.

As if she had witnessed someone precious to her make the same choice, repeatedly. Destiny broke the rules to offer the chance and choice, again and again through the centuries, and yet he--she was sure the person was a he--kept saying no, growing colder and more calloused and deaf as the years ground on.

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