Ficlets

Something Magical About That Lake

The tinted windows make everything outside look unnaturally bluer; blue fog, blue trees, blue frost.

I love working from my new home. I can just make out the lake in the distance between the tall pines. This morning the lake-effect fog makes me think of magical faery dancers who are just turning in to sleep as the shelter of the fog burns away.

There’s something magical about that lake. Whenever I walk down to it, the hairs on the back of my neck tingle causing me to shiver and get goosepimples all over.

The water is so beautiful, I am entranced. I stand watching the light dance across the surface. I tune out the world and try not to think. I sit for hours, gazing into the lake and listening. It seems to me something wants to communicate with me, but even as still as I can be, I cannot hear it. My mystery.

I sigh. I cannot venture down there today. I must hole up in my office without this view of the enchanting lake to distract me. I finish my coffee and clop in my oversized slippers upstairs.

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