Dandi Lion

|Published on Deadlines for Writers | Prompt: Glow | 1200 words exactly

I’m so glad you came to visit. This place can be hard to find, but the journey is worth it. Come in! Have a seat.

What’s that? Oh, no … no one else is here. It’s just us. That knocking sound is my ghost. He used to be a beast I feared. Now he’s a wailing poltergeist that rattles windows and passes through doors and walls. I feel his chill as he drifts through in his gray, tattered robes, but he can’t hurt me. He’ll never go away. It’s like he’s snagged on the splinters that make up the frame of this house. I normally just sit and sip my tea and nod to him as he moans and passes through the room.

Did you have trouble finding the place? Honestly, most people turn back when they reach the marsh. I know it looks messy and dark with ominous moss and shadows, but there’s a bridge. Most people don’t see it. Once you get past the marsh, it opens up into a lovely—

Hm? My ghost? I call him Hank. He’s loud, but that’s about it. He has teeth, but he can’t bite. I hope that doesn’t make you nervous. His threat isn’t real. He just wants you to think it is. Would you like some tea? Wonderful.

Anyway, the marsh seems foreboding, like you’re heading into a forbidden forest, but if you keep going, it gets so much better. Past the marsh, you come to a lovely path surrounded by wildflowers. I didn’t plant them … they just grew.

Oh, Hank? I know it’s strange calling him “my” ghost … that’s not what keeps him around. It’s not like I claim him. I’ve tried my whole life to shut him out. He’s more like a fixture. Not a pet. He’s here, whether I like it or not. You’ll get used to him. I have. Would you like one lump of sugar, or two?

Come this way and I’ll show you the garden. You can take your tea with you. Everything tastes better outside, don’t you think? When I was a kid, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tasted magical in the outdoors.

Oh, I’m glad you like it! The back porch is covered by a pergola. The vines make a ceiling that provide just enough light, just enough shade. I like to sit on the swing in the mornings. You can’t hear Hank as well out here. Sometimes it’s easier to let him throw his fits all by himself.

Come down this path. If you notice, it’s made of stones. I dug them up myself and arranged them. They lead you to the fountain, and a little beyond.

Oh, look! Do you see that? Beneath the hedges? No, you’re not hallucinating … that’s a gnome. A real gnome. They’re curious little things. Maybe not “little” … They’re small, but chubby! They like to feed off beetles and rats. You don’t have to worry about encoutering a rat. The gnomes take care of them before they come anywhere near the house. You probably wouldn’t want to see a gnome feasting on a rat. It’s surprisingly violent and a little … well, disturbing. They don’t look like the pointy-hat old men from storybooks, do they? They change their clothes every couple of days when their leaf-coverings wilt away. Every now and then I’ll catch sight of a naked one running through the yard headed toward the English ivy, their favorite leaf supply. Sometimes they make hats and capes out of them. It’s pretty cute, in a weird sort of way. No, they don’t like to be pet. They have sharp teeth, and unlike Hank, they’ll bite. I learned that the hard way. See this scar on my ankle? I stepped too close to one napping near the rose bushes.

Do you like the fountain? Someone sculpted it from a huge chunk of stone in the ground that was choking out garden roots. Somehow, he hauled it over here and chipped away at it. Yes, it is a fairy! See the wings? Like a butterfly. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? See how she’s holding a flower and has a daisy chain like a crown? I love how real the fabric of her dress looks. I really don’t know how he did it. Lots of patience. The birds love to bathe in the basin.

I try not to over-cultivate the garden. I like it wild. Letting it be what it wants. Nourishing it and making room, then sitting back and watching it grow. I didn’t plant the lavender over there. Do you smell the rosemary? The tea we’re drinking now is made from herbs I got right here from the garden.

Let’s go a little further. It looks like a wall of vines, doesn’t it? Look just beyond the hanging foliage. See the light? This is what I wanted to show you.

You can feel it already, can’t you? The warmth? It starts just behind your sternum and spreads like a warm blanket through the marrow of your bones. It has incredible healing properties. Both energizing and peaceful. Oh, wow … your eyes look so much brighter. I’ll show you where it’s originating from. All around us … these aren’t vines. They’re limbs of a very old willow. Look at the trunk of the tree. See that orb? It looks like a snow globe. Go ahead … you can take it out. Hold it in your hands and look closely. What do you see?

You see fire? What kind of fire? Oh, like a cozy fireplace?

When I look inside, I see fireflies.

We see different things because we’re different people. Ha, no. You can’t take this one home. It’s mine. It’s unique to me. I know it fills and heals something inside of you, but if you take it away, it will die. And … not to sound morbid … but, I’ll also die.

No, no, it’s okay. You can keep holding it. It’s okay because I gave it to you to hold. If you take it without asking, it would be damaged. The fireflies on the inside go dim. It takes a long time for them to fly and glow again.

You wish you had one? Why do you say that? Of course you have one. Maybe it’s small, like a marble that easily rolls under the couch and collects dust bunnies and cobwebs because it’s neglected. Or maybe it’s gotten kicked around and has a few fractures that have leaked out its power. It’s not your fault. But you are the only one who can pick it up and care for it to restore the glow.

The orb is like a repository, and the glow comes from Avi HaMe’orot. He has plenty to give. All you need to do is ask.

It’s getting late. You should probably head home. I’ll take your teacup and give it a wash inside. Wait, what is that? Do you see that? Right at your collar, beneath your shirt. Something flickered. Is that … ?

Yes. There it is. Your glow. It was there all along. You know what to do, now.

I hope you come back and visit. And I hope that, when you do, your glow is restored.