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Writer's pictureGary Hewitt

A gift of writing

Hello dear friends and as I look out today it's rather dark out there. With each passing day our hours of sunlight diminish and it will soon be time for those clocks to go back. It's high time we stopped this practice in my view and just kept the little extra daylight than revert to this old method. Anyhow, I digress and let's share the love and kudos to Anna, Jo, Shilpa, Dawn, Russell, Abbi and Kerry for stopping by and reading, liking, loving, commenting and sharing my previous endeavour.



A gift of writing

Wakes up imagination

With just a few words.


I thought today it'd be nice to give a little gift to those who've stumbled upon my blog and I shall delve into my archives to bring forth a tale of mine. You can't beat the joy of creative content and to do a deep dive into the fountain of imagination. I hear you cry, what tale is it then Mr. Raconteur and I say to you I have no idea yet for I've yet to step into my repository of stories but have a bit of patience and I shall wander through the uncategorised library of mine shortly.



Actually, there are some headings in there but they are more of a whimsical arrow or two pointing in the wrong direction. I'm sure I'll find something entertaining though. Meanwhile, my thoughts turn to the Reiki Master/Teacher course today and I have to say it's a wonderful experience so far. The people are truly delightful and will help bring that light forward to us all. Anyway, I hear you doth protest about getting on with it, so on that note, let's unleash an old tale of mine and remember keep reading. Oh and three things to be grateful for of course.


  1. A splendid day of teaching

  2. Being entertained by Brad Pitt in Fury

  3. Being surrounded by bright happy people.


Siphon


He handled the green rock over and over.


“Beautiful isn’t it?”


He brokered a frown.


“It’s weird. Looks like some sort of weird lettuce leaf.”


Dahlia, quelled a flash of annoyance.


“These crystals are the bad boys of energy. They promote many virtues, you should try it with meditation.”


“I don’t meditate.”


Dahlia tutted.


“You really should. These crystals come from the stars, far, far away and when they crashed into Earth you get what you hold in your hand now. They’re found near the Moldau river in Europe. It’s a tektite crystal and very powerful, especially with healing.”


The man nodded, turned the crystal over in his palm and swore a strange flicker blinked at him.


“Mysterious isn’t it? I normally sell them for ten dollars, but just for you how about seven? I know I shouldn’t but that crystal seems to like your energy.”


His resistance waned and his cash flow diminished.


“Thank you very much. The name’s Dahlia by the way, like the flower. May I have the pleasure of yours?”


“Daniel, like the lion.”


“Lovely to meet you, Daniel. If you’d be so kind to write your address there I can send you a brochure. We’ll have a new booklet coming out in July.”


“Sure, why not.”


Black ink spat his name onto an old notebook. Dahlia wished him well, and looked forward to seeing him again.



“What’s up, Honey?”

“Don’t know Di, it’s the fifth night in a row I’ve had this weird dream. I feel so darn tired.”

“You can’t work all day and not rest with what you do. Come on, lay down.”

Daniel rose, grabbed a glass of water. His throat felt scorched by fiery locusts.

“Forget it, I’m not seeing that damn face again. I’m gonna watch the television for a bit.”



She rubbed her palms. Eager flesh met a green crystal tapered to a fine point. She almost pulled away when raw energy raced into her hungry veins.


“Lovely energy, Daniel. Keep it coming for me darling.”


A green mist swirled from the base of the crystal and soon Dahlia danced in a green fog filling the room. She glanced down at her notebook and kissed his name and address.


“I don’t need to sleep with people like you baby. You’re the strongest one yet. Still, that’s enough for tonight.”


She turned the page and drew a finger down to Louise. Louise, lovely lady who came in two months ago, yet now so sick.


“Not much left in your battery. I’m still thirsty. Sweet dreams.”


Her hungry fingers grabbed the moldavite once more. Ten tomorrow, a new shipment coming in. Maybe she’d lower the price even more.




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