Dripping with Curiosity

The door you can never enter,
intricate patterns carved into the door.
A child should be seen and not heard,
so you dared never enter the wooden door.

Older, you arrive at the house from long ago;
no longer a child, yet you have the heart of a child.

No longer afraid, you are dripping with curiosity.
To hell with it, you whisper,
then turn the handle and walk into the room.

Your Grandmother sits at her desk,
within a room of dreams and magic,
‘I wondered when you would join me.’

You smile and take the stars within your hands;
now you are ready for your mother’s secrets.

‘You have always been a witch, and now it is time to become one. Welcome to the heart of our coven, my beautiful Granddaughter.
I wish your mother could see this day, yet you know she still lingers.’

Very Short Story: Little One

She spends her time picking up old plastic bottles, finding half-eaten food, sipping on best past beverages, and nipping in and out of the supermarket bins.

A waif with no mother to hug her and no father to play games; she is alone, yet when the moon is full and shines upon her face, then the stars gather to tell her of the better days ahead.