Gina Marinello-Sweeney

No magnetic wombats, no flying hyenas, no catfish masquerading as samurai, and, MOST CERTAINLY, no Duku jam!

The last time I checked, I wasn__ the one who tripped over a glass container of sugar that I had myself dropped... after, of course, having received several bruises from an attempt to retrieve a flip-flop that had somehow ended up in the sink.

That,_ Adriana said, __s a puzzling mystery that must be solved.

The luminescent flow of a sunbathed garden_ illuminating the shifting colors of its inhabitants_ echoed in my memory as I opened the antique bookstore door in the shaft of window light. The books, like the flowers of the garden, awaited me with the thrill of a new mystery.

Or, maybe what really mattered was that game of Crazy 8s.

. . . for a moment, perhaps an hour, they would wait, wait for something, and when that waiting was over, it was simply dismissed, goodbyes stated, reading materials closed, a momentary pause in the day that did not hold up to whatever came next.Waiting was often a resented gift, imparted to those who accepted it grudgingly in the hopes that something better would come along when the gift was tossed aside, boxed away for the next recipient.

And the shower of roses spun around me, inviting me to take part in their ever-present waltz.

I told my imagination to discontinue communication with my thoughts.

St. Catherine of Siena once said, __f you are what you should be, you will set the whole world ablaze._ But,_ I turned to him urgently, __ow can I even light a single candle if someone blocks off the first step?

There is a host of angels surrounding you, Rebecca. Not figuratively. Literally. With wings spread far to encompass you, protect you with their Light. Remember that they are with you__ee them with your heart and soul__henever you are forced to engage in battle with forces that seek and have become, through their own will, evil.

The Eternal Smiler strode forth, handing her one, as well. I considered the psychology behind her smile and formed the conclusion that, despite its obvious coating of pleasantry, it was an understandable psychological decision.

The college bookstore was a splash of life, culture, and society. As a psychology student, I often found myself intrigued by the behavior, ways of thinking and feeling, and general schemata of others, and this was the perfect spot to engage my senses.Other times, I was just annoyed.

I stared back at her, my eyes leveled with hers in inscrutable certainty. For a moment, our eyes remained engaged, unflinching and impenetrable, as the shrill, steady call of a siren ran across the street outside, mixing with the effervescent glow of traffic lights and a steady pitter-patter of pedestrian feet sauntering across the street in wakeful gait.

It is the littlest of flowers that fly the farthest . . . That have the courage to fly the farthest.

Yes, it is,_ I whispered, __nd one day the spell will not cause you to forget it.

It was a gaze that held the comfort of familiarity. There was no mystery, no enigmatic depth, but unrestrained length, the length of years__he laughter of childhood games and Christmas carols of home_ lining its pathways with simple, yet easily overlooked, understanding.

He had not been tossed aside by time, but lost in it.

Two years could change so much under the facade of changing nothing at all.