A Kind of Magic

When his love he doth espy, let her shine as gloriously as the Venus of the sky - William Shakespeare


It wasn’t the flickering light in the upper storey window that drew the Watcher’s attention, for many lights vied for his attention that evening. It was a melody drifting upwards through the gradually darkening sky. A rose-gold sun set the western horizon alight as the lone figure made slow, wide circles in the radiant atmosphere.

Drawn by her irresistible presence below, he descended to the house with eight rooms where she dwelt. The flame of a candle within licked gently at the surrounding air and a heady scent was carried to him with the rising music. Deeply he inspired, considering the soul within. She was stretched like a cat upon the bed, with an open book face-down beside her on the pillow. His eye was now fixed.

One golden glance of what should be.

A powerful gust of wind blew the window open and she jumped out of her skin, shaken from her hazy reverie by the sudden noise and rush of cool air. Moving like quicksilver, he silently slipped inside. Staring meditatively at the breached window, she searched the indigo space he left behind him. A magnificent aura permeated the room, gracing her skin with a robe of divine beauty.

Arising thoughtfully, she took a cautious step towards the opening. He watched again while she turned her head north and then south, seeking what or whomsoever had disturbed the rose-scented ether.

Finding nothing but the dying throes of day she fastened shut the window and lay down again, book held loosely in hand, not quite unaware of the almost unexpected arrival of the thrice-descended master. The Led display of her mobile phone revealed that it was 22.22.

With avid concentration she listened to the voice that came into her room via the radio. A drama was set to unfold, of that she could be sure. Doubtless there was a kind of magic taking place right there and then, with her at the centre of its endlessly opening and closing circle.

She also knew she was no longer alone, for a profound change had occurred that no-one could deny. Luscious chords swelled like a rising ocean, sweeping over her body in sensuous waves. The lost history of time unfolded in his fathomless mind.