On Looking and Looking Again… part 1

On Looking and Looking Again… part 1

There it is again. The soft murmur of words. Being read over and over again. Maybe they have meaning. Maybe they don’t. I don’t know. I stopped listening to the words as a whole a long time ago. Now they just rush over me and recede, like waves. The quiet tide of her voice, soothes me. My sister is staring at the pages too. But she isn’t speaking, her eyes are glazed over. She’s listening. More than that, she’s hearing. I’m not. There’s too many things to look at. The trees. The night. The light that we’re reading from. The owls. The owls. They are still there. They’ve been there now for a while. Making a chilling sound, waiting for the right time to strike at whatever meal they want tonight.

Magic still existed back then. Hogwarts was still a real place. But it was so far away from me. I still don’t remember anything from the books. The words just washed over me. My aunt devoured the books for us over the short week that we were there. She borrowed the second book from the main house and devoured that one too. She made a funny voice for Dobby. I can’t remember anything else. But her voice. The owls. The porch light. And the trees that seemed to glow in the night. I remember that I believed in magic. In possibilities. Now I’m not sure. Maybe this is all just to feel close to her again. To spend time with her spirit as if it were still here. I don’t know. But she’s gone now. And so is her voice. She stopped reading halfway through the fourth book. Maybe I’ll never know the ending. Maybe it was supposed to stop there. But that’s when the magic stopped. And I couldn’t finish it. Maybe one day, I’ll go back to the owls. Back to that place, and she’ll be there. Probably not. Magic doesn’t exist anymore. At least, not for me.

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