making magic moments

a friend told me she finds magic in the moments when she is alone. moments of the mundane, which she transforms into magic. making them as she is living within each moment. skipping to a soundless tune. the breathe of color from the wind. an orchestra of leaves tapping to the beat of the forest. plunging into civilizations of the alternate through uneven surfaces of a puddle. playing narrator to lives of the bodies that float around. people. beings. she is thinking of getting plastic surgery but her husband actually prefers her 'flat'. he goes home each day at exactly 7.08pm to polish his furniture whilst tuning in to songs from the 80s. they have sex every single night. and so, the lives of the mass of meaningless faces become a little more interesting, a little more magical within each concocted moment. the narrator is pleased. imagination is magick!