tales for dreamers: fallen angels

The prayers have been said.

The presents have been opened. 

The party’s long over.

And now we’re all hungover and lost.

Everyone had a merry time. 

Everything that we’d been looking forward to has come to pass.

All our wishes have come true.

Leaving something strangely empty in their wake.

It feels a little pointless to make more wishes, now that we know how their fulfillment actually makes us feel.

But also because the only ones who can grant us our wishes are themselves hungover. 

The angels too partied hard, spent all night granting wishes and drinking and dancing until they fell over from joy and exhaustion, and now they have nothing left to give.

But now that they’ve learnt you have no more wishes to make, they’re relieved. 

They lift themselves up. 

They’re no longer tired. 

They play their flutes and dance off into the sunset, basking in the knowledge that their lifetime of giving and unhindered generosity has made you content weary of wishes at last. 

Last week's image info: The tree with the golden baubles in 'going on a wish hunt' stand on the front lawn of a lovely home on Belvenia Rd. Take a stroll, and let me know if you spot it.