The Decameron 2.0

Day 1.9: HEA Love - TILLY'S CANDLE LBKeen

That was the one that did it. One by one, after Andrea's story, those of us who hadn't yet undergone our transformation into Indigo Children, aka Star Children, aka Crystal Children, did so. Okay, we weren't kids, but "Indigo Adults" doesn't have the same ring to it, so bear with me here.

The changes came with a storm of light, a show to rival anything New Trump City could muster on even its most depraved nights. I'm certain a stargazing Trump-possibly plotting which planets he wished to pervert next-stared in wonder at the baby-blue night sky, the stars blotted out by the magic we were making. I'm sure he felt a dribble of pee run down his inner thigh, cutting through the liquid gold painted over his body.

Back to our transformations:

"I can dance!" Seth shouted, tap-dancing like he'd been born and raised a tap dancer.

"And I can fly!" Coltrane shouted back, soaring through the sky above like Superman (before he got cancer and had to quit smoking, thus losing all his superpowers).

Murv, as you already know, became an English-accented intellectual. Applauding, he said, "Marvellous show, old beans! Cheerio!"

A party-fiend in a different way now, Dirk had his ability to turn beer into candy.

Rid of her speech disorder for good, Ruby Tuesday could talk for days without shutting up.

Andrea could create swarms of bees with her thumbs. I'm not sure where that one came from.

Dear old Dora-Mae-due to a stroke before we'd met-had already received her powers, enabling her to knit at the speed of light. That's why she was so fast at making all of our sweaters. She could also identify our favourite person or animal.

Mr. Hardon could read minds. "Jesus, you're thinking of how much you love us, aren't you?"

"You got me, Brick," I told him, grinning. I'm not sure what my power was-perhaps I'd been granted it long ago, and it involved communing with the Lord?

"What about you, Passionfruit?" Seth asked her. "Can you walk again, girl?"

And the answer to that was a resounding no, as that would imply her need of a wheelchair somehow made her inferior and in need of improving.

"Bitch," she said, "I'm telekinetic now. Watch this." Somehow, Passionfruit was able to brake without using her hands, and make the wheels spin so quickly that smoke and fire blew out the back of her chair. She took off like a bat out of hell and rode circles around us 'til we got dizzy trying to keep up.

Passionfruit enjoyed the praise we showered on her.

But we still had our job to do: Tell happily-ever-after love stories and beat Trump back to whatever biker-bar toilet he'd spawned from.

It was Ruby's turn. "When I was mute, I started developing a fantasy world that I lived in. I created many stories to keep myself company, and this is just one of them... It's called

TILLY'S CANDLE by LBKeen

The bell rang above their heads as they entered the shop. Tilda had seen the little store of witchcraft every time she'd taken the long drive to Murray, Kentucky to get her sister, Becca.

"Wow!" Becca said, staring at the wall of shrunken heads. The glasses holding them were tall and clean.

In truth, the inside was far more promising than the worn, cabin-like appearance of the outside. At twenty-six, not much surprised Tilda, and to be truthful she never would have stopped if her twenty-one-year-old sister hadn't insisted on it.