{"id":1146,"date":"2022-03-22T17:14:08","date_gmt":"2022-03-22T17:14:08","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1146"},"modified":"2022-03-22T17:14:25","modified_gmt":"2022-03-22T17:14:25","slug":"life-is-magic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/life-is-magic\/1146\/","title":{"rendered":"Life is Magic"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The house was like nothing she\u2019d\u00a0seen before. It smelled of biscuits and old tea; and looked like a half-buried cottage with just the top floor sticking out. This, it turned out, was an accurate description.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

She\u2019d been dropped at the end of the lane by a taciturn bus driver, who simply nodded at the lane when she asked for directions.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After walking for a mile, the lane ended, and the bramble shrouded garden began. At first her aunt\u2019s cottage wasn\u2019t visible, just a curl of wood-smoke from a chimney poking above the treetops. She headed towards it and arrived at the two up, three down-down-down to find her aunt leaning out of a window, shaking a large quilt covered in esoteric patterns.<\/p>\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you my Aunt Carys?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know,\u201d the woman answered. \u201cAre you my sister\u2019s daughter?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, if your sister is my mum, then the answer is that I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDefinitely Celia\u2019s daughter. Come in child, it\u2019s about to rain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Glancing around, she failed to see any clouds or a door, but did find steps leading to an open window and, shrugging, she tugged her suitcase up and through the window. Her aunt was on the other side, standing at the top of stairs. She was a tall woman, with a mane of white curly hair, angular features, and ruddy skin that spoke of long outdoor hours.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cCome along, there isn\u2019t much time,\u201d her aunt urged. \u201cDrop your bag in your room and meet me in the kitchen.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As she spoke, the heavens opened, and rain streaked the dusty panes of the window Mira just closed behind her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the one on your left,\u201d Carys shouted. \u201cHurry, we\u2019re about to displace.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Mira wondered what displacing was but sensed the urgency of her voice brooked no argument, so she slid her bag through the door, scampered down the stairs, and through the wooden plank door marked \u201cKitchen\u201d in large brass letters. Her aunt was sitting in what looked like a racing car seat, alongside which was another.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBelt up,\u201d she said, pointing at a leather strap. Mira complied, and no sooner had she done so than the house lurched, and bright light shone through the dirt encrusted windows. She realised; they were no longer half-buried. Instead, the vista was of a savannah, over which the setting sun shone brightly, revealing the shapes of a dozen or more women dressed in brightly coloured clothing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow?\u201d Mira started.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThaumaturgy,\u201d her aunt said, \u201cyour mother will not have told you this, but it\u2019s time to induct you into the Sisterhood.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Carys waved a hand at the group of women.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThis is the dawn of time, and these are your ancestors. More will arrive overnight and tomorrow we reveal the secret of life on Earth, one we swore to protect. They walked through the open front door and greeted the smiling women surrounding Mira. From that day on, her life was never the same. It was magic.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The house was like nothing she\u2019d\u00a0seen before. It smelled of biscuits and old tea; and looked like a half-buried cottage with just the top floor sticking out. This, it turned out, was an accurate description. She\u2019d been dropped at the end of the lane by a taciturn bus driver, who simply nodded at the lane […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"rop_custom_images_group":[],"rop_custom_messages_group":[],"rop_publish_now":"initial","rop_publish_now_accounts":{"facebook_10158782359051062_103813597863211":"","twitter_1225722811282530305_1225722811282530305":""},"rop_publish_now_history":[],"rop_publish_now_status":"pending","jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[597,618],"tags":[7,14,11],"class_list":["post-1146","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-597","category-magic","tag-her","tag-she","tag-was"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/pbrNJE-iu","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1146","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1146"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1146\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1148,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1146\/revisions\/1148"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1146"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1146"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.swanseawriterscircle.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1146"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}