a summer spell

At first I thought everyone could see It.

It wasn’t even trying to hide. It was just sitting in the corner of the cafe, waiting.

I chose a table before I saw It, and threw my coat over the back of a chair as I glanced around.

My knees gave out from under me. The chair groaned, and I had to place both hands on the tabletop to steady myself. I closed my eyes.

Not again.

I swallowed, hard.

I’m not ready for this.

I heard the scraping of a chair, and knew It had climbed up at my table. I felt for a menu, and only when it was held up in front of my face did I open my eyes.

The font swam, and I had trouble focusing.

Come on…you knew I’d be back.

My heart sank. I was still trying to pretend It was there for someone else, that it wasn’t my turn. That I could go on with the same heavy steps I’d become so used to taking.

I sighed. Can’t I have a bit more time?

It peeked under the menu.

For what – this?

I knew my tired eyes and unwashed clothes wrote my story for me. I felt a surge of irritation that I was being prodded out of my cosy world of wallowing, and suddenly reached out two fingers to pinch It, hard.

It squeaked, a noise so high pitched and ridiculous I started smiling despite myself. It joined in, and as I lowered the menu I felt laughter bubbling up for the first time in ages. It felt good, as though I was being washed clean, darkness flooding out of each pore. I even winked at the waiter when I paid for my coffee, and as I stood up I looked at It with pursed lips.

So…you’re back then.

I am.

And there’s nothing I can do about it?

It grinned, and I found myself grinning back.

Nothing at all…it’s time.

I swung my bag over my shoulder, and opened the door.

And for the first time in months, Hope followed me home.

Currently unavailable for purchase

It’s almost Hallowe’en in the northern hemisphere, but here in the southern, it’s Walpurgisnacht. Summer is coming, and the regeneration this heralds is glorious.

The trees outside my window are a riot of green, I walk with my face turned up to the sun, and get a nod and a smile from people I pass in the street.

Seems like as good a time as any to pick myself up again.


bellmusker, regeneration, walpurgisnacht, hope, depression, light

I love the words that fall between the cracks; where I have to roll my sleeve up, jam my arm down into the darkness, and yank the stories up by their hair.

I write with black coffee, and bare feet.

Both seem to help.

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  • Eric  David Lough
    Eric David Loughalmost 4 years ago

    I pictured this very clearly. Wonderful write. E.D.L

  • Thank you, I’m so glad to hear it. Sometimes, when you can’t feel any magic, you have to write the spell yourself :-)

    – bellmusker

  • rjcolby
    rjcolbyalmost 4 years ago

    A beauty. Yes to hope…

  • Sometimes elusive, but so damn beautiful when It decides to visit!

    – bellmusker

  • evitaoz
    evitaozalmost 4 years ago

    bell, this write is gorgeous. please read IT by leisahof. she is eranthos cousin (my niece)and her first ever piece of writing on bubble is called IT! read it and enjoy IT;)

  • How timely! I wrote this piece two weeks ago, yet didn’t feel in a hopeful enough headspace to believe It would stick around. I know a lot of that is up to me though, I realise. I enjoyed your niece’s writing, very much – so good to see your whole family is jumping aboard!

    – bellmusker

  • Matt Penfold
    Matt Penfoldalmost 4 years ago

    So uplifting and visual Bell, perfect for today too :-)

  • Thanks, Matt. Today in Melbourne it’s just a beautiful, golden day of 28 degrees. I’m eating red grapes and listening to funk music, and editing a story for a book…all of which makes me very damn happy :-)

    – bellmusker

  • jimbeau
    jimbeaualmost 4 years ago

    That was great… guess things like hope are seasonal like everything else down here? Engaging writing bellmusker and happy summer to you.

  • It’s difficult to be dark when the world outside your window is so golden, though some of us tend to try :-) Happy summer to you too, Jim.

    – bellmusker

  • Michael Eyssens
    Michael Eyssensalmost 4 years ago

    this is wonderful :)

  • Thank you!

    – bellmusker

  • jimbeau
    jimbeaualmost 4 years ago

    can’t resist the beast forever eh?

  • Indeed!

    – bellmusker

  • jetsta42
    jetsta42almost 4 years ago


  • Thank you darling…you play more of a role in my hope than you perhaps realise :-) I’ve just finished editing my story for the book I was telling you about, so will celebrate by strutting down High Street, getting a ten minute Chinese head massage, buying myself a bunch of yellow flowers, and hopefully scratching at least two feline bellies on the way…it’s not a bad life really, hey? X

    – bellmusker

  • lianne
    liannealmost 4 years ago

    I don’t even have words for how delightful this is aside from how meaningful a truth you managed to sneak into this tale! This is just superb writing Bell – and I’d take Hope home with me any day of the week! Thank you for this – it mattered!! xoxox

  • Thanks, Lianne – so glad this spoke to you! I was wondering if I could get this across adequately, so your message means a lot to me. Hope your day is glorious x x

    – bellmusker

  • eoconnor
    eoconnoralmost 4 years ago

    well written had me guessing !LIz

  • Glad to hear it! I spend so much time trying to get opening lines right; intriguing your readers isn’t that easy :-)

    – bellmusker

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