Crystal Ball

Ella Grant, Glyphs Member

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When I look into this crystal ball, the glass is tinted pink: I see picnics and potions. I see love that breathes, love that evades taxes and mortgages and the staleness of bread left out too long. I see little girls and little boys with satin ribbons in their hair, who I raise on sunshine and honey, who grow up to be poets and magicians and thinkers and feelers and never compile into a human-shaped stack of medical fees. I see beach trips and foreign excursions. A life rid of constant guilt that settles like a peach pit in my stomach. Instead of the peach pit I see the peach and I eat it. The juice runs down my fingers and my chin and I never complain about how sticky it is. Future me wouldn’t complain, I know her better than I know myself. I see wisdom, a brain no longer muddy, I see a mouth that chooses its words instead of letting everything pass, one that is not stuck in a forever-indifferent downward curve. I see a heart that explodes when touched, not one that shrivels and shrinks. I see arms that open wide. I see tears that fall. I see a body free from the grip of a three-digit number. Future me knows that number is garbage anyway. Current me will never know that, and future me always has. I see the truth, in its least authentic form. I see no reason to be selfish, when everything I will ever need will be well within my reach. I see a world saved.

 

Is all happiness just a craned neck looking forward, looking to a glorified version of the world that exists only in the pink-tinted walls of this crystal ball?
God, I sure hope so.

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