Sweven

11th

Market Madness
Creativity is magic. Venders display their wizardry. Now comes introductions. One young wizard weeps and runs. Stop the world to seek him. At the back door lumbers a man, face half hidden, gun in hand. Bar the door as best I can. Announce the coming threat. The world scatters. Shelter neath shrubs. A second gunman joins the first. They flee. Wizards reconvene and discuss safer spaces. A man, as Caucasian as can be, rants stupendously that the white race is the ruin of the world.

Sky Tidings
Storm clouds stalking. Outrace the rage. Halted by the serene shores of a mirror lake. At its horizon two suns set in harmony. "Take a photo! This is a rare atmospheric phenomenon," I cry. Kayji shoots. Behind us beams a rainbow of vertical stripes. "Get that too! This is even rarer!" She shoots again. Night is a jolt. Upon the lake fireworks dance as if ordained by a certain grey wizard. Reflections upon the lake make double magic. It is enough to wipe away the worry of scourge and storms.

+ 3 Little Lucid Dreams