My heart was opening up ever so slightly, the warmth flowing out of me, into my fingertips and beyond.
Distantly, I felt Hesper near me. Her presence was always a tether in the storms. I leaned into that, too. How my heart sang when she was near, how coming home to her felt like a warm fire on a cold night.
Suddenly, magic began pouring out of me. A gentle release at first, then a torrent.
“Easy,” Hesper warned gently, and I could feel her hands on my shoulders even though my eyes were closed and my senses were muted. “Rein it in.”
But the magic was tumbling out, the babbling brook turning into a tide.
Stop it, I told my heart.
I can’t.
Enough.But the magic wouldn’t listen.
“Clara,” Hesper shook me. “That’s enough.” Worry was in her voice.
“I’m trying,” I managed to say.
The magic flowing out of me didn’t hurt, but I was losing energy. A disruption sounded from behind me, and Hesper momentarily let me go.
All at once, the magic stopped, the torrent returning to my chest. My knees went wobbly, but I was able to stay upright. I opened my eyes, and the mayhem surrounding me was astonishing.
Towering pumpkin vines spiraled up toward the sky. The strangest part, though? No pumpkins. Not a hint. Not even a bloom.
Hesper, meanwhile, had let me go because the vines had burst through the kitchen window. She had to continue lopping the vine off bit by bit lest it take over the whole cottage.
“Well, at least you let go,” she said cheerfully, albeit a little shaky.
“This isn’t going to help the farmers market!” I said woefully.
“It’ll work itself out, Clara. We have plenty of time.”
Famous last words.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single woman in search of how-to-ignore-lust-and-NOT-love will do so in the form of tedious household projects.
—opening line attempt 856
DWINDLE’SFARMERSMARKET
RETURNSINTWENTYFOURTEEN DAYS
The next few days were a blur of plants, regrets, and a lot of unnecessary cleaning in the middle of the night.
Hesper would wake me at an ungodly hour, and I would brace myself for a day in the garden. There was no in-between with my magic so far. It was either I played around in the dirt for hours on end with nothing to show, or my heart gave way ever so slightly and then a nestleberry bush the size of a small cottage would explode out of the ground.
The funniest part about all of it?
There were never any fruits or vegetables or blooms. Justleaves and stems. Even my radishes weren’t growing past their initial sprout stages.
Haha! What a fucking riot!
My lack of sleep was doing nothing to help matters.
There were a few nights… all right,severalnights when I, too restless to sleep, would just lie on the giant reading chair, stewing in my thoughts. My mind wanted to slip back into old ways of thinking:not enough,you will fail everyone you care for…
But I’d promised to choose light. Even in darkness.
