The little bits of magic start to appear in the corner of your eye. The hedgerows tingle with hidden fairies, the blackberries along the country road taste sweeter than anything that's come across your tongue, laced with a sugar until now unknown. There are swans in the dykes, distant church bells across the valley. You feel it coming, you knew it would come, you were just always so slow about settling in. Your accent lilts, twists itself to fit the person at the other end of a conversation, you hear it stumble, momentary scratches on a chalkboard. The dogs ask you to finish work early and go for excursions around the property. You pour a glass of wine and follow them in the high, dry grass. Wonder if this is what a life could be like.
After all, for a moment, yours is.
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