Crafted by magic

Crafted by magic

Crafted by magic

A little magician runs with his tiny bare feet

Oh what I would give to say he’s mine but it would be a lie

the universe was holding parts which were meant to be his

He’s crafted by magic

Every cell makes me wonder how perfect he is

I gave birth to a unique creator of thoughts

my dear love – your thoughts are you

my dear love – you are your thoughts

write – speak – draw – whisper – shout – listen

all that comes out of your inner center – your center of being

you are a magician, you craft magic under the stars

millions of light years full of memories find a way to be heard

let these memories flow through you and add your deepest fear and purest love

this is life – your life

wonder and hurt

thought and word

love and hate

broken promises and fate

at the end there is love – never forget there is love

the purest of all in you – is you

let nobody break your magic – you are light years away from the stars but you see them

shine and light up all there is

you are love and light and magic

my son

Crafted by magic

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My first short story is finalized and now?

My dears,

Today I need some advise. I finalized my first short story and now I’m thinking about what to do with it. It is fictional and has 2.857 words and the title is “The life changing fortune cookie”.

Finally I decided to just give it a try and self-publish. I don’t have anything to lose, do I?

So here we go – I proudly present – tatatatataaaaaa:

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Looking forward to your reviews / comments / thought,
yours misssfaith

Thanks!!!

Thanks!!!

I never have imagined to hit 2000 views within such a short time being here.
When I started to import my blog to wordpress in late October I wanted to give it another try on another platform but wasn’t too convinced.
You are great!
Have a happy and relaxed weekend!!!

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An extract of my work – journey towards the unknown

I’m writing – that’s why I’m here. My plan is to have written one book at least one day – no time schedule up to now – and here is an extract, I’m on my way but I wonder what professionals would say as well as for sure readers.
If you take the time to read what I produced I would be more than happy to receive feedback!
Please be honest, I can stand it 🙂

Thanks a lot upfront!!!

Downstairs I’m standing now with my suitcase and the keys in my hand to remember where I parked the car. It’s autumn already and I always try to find a place away from the trees. I walk through the autumn filled air to my car, it’s covered with leaves already although the autumn just starts. I see it but my mind is already traveling, far ahead of me. My scarf isn’t protecting me from the cold air, or is it just my inner feeling?
The first thing after starting the car is turning the heater on, I’m freezing. The way to the airport is an half an hour drive and normally I turn the radio on and sometimes I even sing along but today I don’t even realize the silence in the car. My mind is loud enough, thoughts of how it will be and how I will feel. The streets are still empty, it’s early morning and weekend. The river besides the street is flowing quietly, no more kids playing there before they head off to the school, just a few people go for a walk with their dogs. We have many dogs in the city, this is what my husband realized quickly when he was here for the very first time. He’s scared of dogs and to have one as a pet is normal here but completely unusual for him. There are dogs existing where he is and he even had one as a child but nowadays it’s not common anymore.
I stand a the first traffic lights, wondering how often I drove this way and when I will be there again. The way to the airport is well known, I went there a felt thousand times. In the past mainly for catching flights for work, after I changed my job position the drives were rarely. Once or twice a year for work or holidays but it wasn’t my weekly drive anymore. When I met my husband the first time in person it was the first time for me as well to drive there and wait for someone to leave the arrival area. Someone I rarely knew at that time. It was exciting, scary, a strange feeling deep inside on what will happen and how we will spend the weekend.
Since then this airport has a special meaning for me, or better said, two.
The pick ups every few weeks are the happy drives. When I am near I even imagine in which arriving plane he may is or if he is already so near to me as I wish. The departure drives are the sad ones and we both try to catch every second of us before he is walking through the security check. I mostly try to walk away quickly so that he is not seeing the tears welling up. And also not to be one of those movie women at airports, crying because a spouse is leaving. I want to be stronger.
My car is parked and I am on my way to the check-in. The flight is on plan so far and I don’t have to hurry. Time to have a coffee and check the duty free offers but I’m walking like absent minded through the shops. I buy his perfume as it’s cheaper here and I love his smell so much. At home I open his wardrobe from time to time just to catch his scent. It’s easing somehow. He’s not there but I can smell him.
The gate opens and I walk between strangers into the plane. This is not unusual as I did it many times but this time it feels different. The language already changed although we haven’t started yet and I am happy that the stewardesses speak my language. I’m able to communicate at least until I arrive. Most of the passengers seem to be residents of our destination and the cultural difference is already present. Women are covered, some loosely, some from head to toe. They smell different than European women. I’m feeling slightly uncomfortable as I have the feeling as if everyone is staring at me. Who is she, the blonde woman, uncovered on her way to their country. I’m not uncovered like uncovered in a European meaning. I’m wearing comfortable jeans, flat shoes, a T-shirt and my wool jacket as I’m always freezing in planes. My scarf is in my bag, I’m sure I need it later on when the air condition of the plane starts. I’m pretty sure that they aren’t watching me because I’m not covered, they will always do that as I’m different. I will never fit into their picture on how women should look like and I will always be whiter and blonder. At this moment I’m glad to have booked a window seat as usual, that way I can snuggle up in my corner without strangers stepping over me to grab their bags, needing a toilet or whatever. A last message is sent to say that I’m in the plane, arrival time should be on schedule and that I will call as soon as I have arrived and the phone has net. Time to plug in the ear phones, music is always calming me down. Not because I’m scared of flying, I like it, but in general. To listen to my favorite music while starting is one thing I love. Everything is getting smaller below me and we break through the clouds and fly directly into the shining sun. The sun will be the same here and there but its intensity will change.
I am leaving, I am really leaving and am on my way. It’s kind of exciting and nervous at the same. Yes, I’m nervous as I go into a country I have never been to before. A country where the war is just over and it’s still not as calm as I would wish. A culture so different from ours. I tried to imagine several times how it will be but I will never know until I’m there. Imaginations, pictures, scenes from TV news, everything is running through my mind.

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