Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68024 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Fireflies?
“Awfully bright for lightning bugs,” I murmur softly and step forward to get a better look. The light is building, growing as it moves steadily through the trees, and then I see that it’s a man.
Without thinking, I step through the garden gate and follow him through the woods. He’s walking quickly, but not as though he’s running to or from anything. I want to catch him and ask who he is and what he’s doing. The air is cool on my skin as I hurry after him, and I barely notice the scrapes and pokes in the soles of my feet from the underbrush.
He stops at the small wooden walking bridge that stretches over the creek at the edge of my property and looks back at me. He seems surprised to see me, and I call out to him.
“Wait. Can I help you?”
I don’t know why I think that he needs my aid, but it’s the first thing that comes out of my mouth. My energy is so focused on him, so weirdly hell-bent on contacting him, that even the branches of the trees around me reach for him.
Without answering, he turns and crosses the bridge. Once on the other side, he’s simply…gone.
The light blinks out as if flicked off by a switch, and I’m standing by the bridge in the dark.
“What in the world?” I ask softly as I turn back toward home. “Am I losing my mind?”
When I get back to the garden gate, I can hear Nera barking inside the house, and I immediately reach out to him.
I’m okay! I hurry inside and fall to my knees to hug him close. “I’m okay, baby.”
He’s whimpering and sniffing me as if he has to make sure for himself that I’m safe.
“I know I shouldn’t have gone without you. It was the…oddest experience, and we both know that I’ve seen some wild shit.”
He whimpers once more and sits in front of me, holding my gaze with his.
“I’m safe, Nera.”
He presses his face to mine.
“I’m sorry that I worried you. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”
But neither of us goes back to sleep. We lie in bed, Nera with me now rather than on his bed, and we listen to the night around us filtering in through the open windows. Night birds call, and I hear the ships in the harbor.
But I can’t get the man’s glowing light and blue eyes out of my head. It’s as though I’m supposed to know him, but I’ve never seen him before.
Not even in my dreams.
I’m not easy to surprise. I see too much.
But this has me shocked to my core, and I have a million questions.
My mother may be dead, but that doesn’t mean I can’t talk to her. I’m just not a medium, so I can’t hear her.
I need the aunts for that.
Lorelei’s and Breena’s moms, Astrid and Hilda, live in a cottage outside of town near the sea. They moved in together several years ago with my mother when they all decided it was high time they were old witches together for the rest of their days.
If you look up eccentric witch in the dictionary, a photo of the three of them would likely be there.
It’s early, just past dawn, when Nera and I walk through their gate and up the steps to the old house. Roses and ivy climb the outside of the building, and it just looks like something old witches would live in.
It’s absolutely divine and totally life goals for when Breena, Lorelei, and I are old ladies.
“Good morning, darling girl,” Astrid says with a smile as she opens the door. “We’re having strawberry rhubarb pie for breakfast.”
I raise an eyebrow and immediately feel calmer and safe. “Count me in.”
Hilda’s in the kitchen, cutting three slices of the pie and setting them on plates.
“The coffee’s hot,” Hilda says and gestures to a mug on the counter. “Help yourself. What a lovely thing to have one of our girls visit so early.”
“I had an odd experience,” I say as I pour the coffee, set the spoon to stirring, and accept a plate from Hilda. “And I need to tell you about it.”
Nera has already curled up under the table, hoping for one of us to drop some crumbs.
“We love odd experiences,” Astrid says with excitement and claps her hands with glee. She has her long, gray hair pulled up into a messy bun on the top of her head this morning. “Tell us everything.”
And so, I do. I tell them all about the dreams and walking out to the garden to find the man in the woods. By the time I finish, I realize that none of us has eaten any pie, and the aunts are watching me very closely.
A door closes in the other room.
“Yes, it’s beginning,” Astrid whispers.