Look up. Look far.
The night lures you in.
What do you desire?
Clarity…
Peace…
Silence…
Stillness…
Reflection.
Beware the bewitching hour,
It entices
The hopeful,
The skeptic,
The lost.

THE HOPEFUL

She loves me. She loves me not. Why won’t she love me?

His mind unravels his past decisions, picking them all apart. Where have they gotten him? Lonely and heartbroken, that’s where. Alone and in need of solace he walks by the lake, the trance of the moon as his guide, as long as he can see through his tears.

The stars sparkle their mysterious glare. So far away and yet, they seem to smirk at his state.
Then he sees it. His chance. His star. The answer. It swoops down, weaving its path, unabashed and unapologetic.

He could wish.
He could hope.
He does hope.
And then…
He does wish.
Now she will kiss him. Now she will love him. The stars can work their magic.

If only it were that simple… right?

THE SKEPTIC

Why the hell not?

The star shot so quickly she could have missed it. One second earlier or one second later and she would never have seen it. Do people call that a sign? she wonders.

She’s not one of those girls who asks for someone’s astrology sign when she likes them to make sure they’re ‘compatible.’ She doesn’t subscribe to the black puffer life. She looks like a dying fish doing pilates. She’s no buddhist, hippie, tree of life loving, bandana and khaki wearing kind of girl.

The weekly horoscope readings are for those people who need some sort of affirmation in their life. Some divine guidance.

They’re too weak to find it themselves. They must realise it’s just an old, unsuccessful excuse of a writer who hates the life that’s supposed to be giving them their ‘meaning’? Pathetic…

But… then… why did she see look up at that exact moment? Why did it have to happen at that exact moment?

Creepy.

Oh well. It’ll do nothing if I wish or don’t wish. Cause it doesn’t work.

She tries to reason with herself. But the thought is there. The seed planted. And she’s a critical over thinker. So now, there’s no hope of going back.

Fuck it, I’ll wish. But it won’t come true! Life just doesn’t work like that. I work hard. That’s how I’ll get to where I want to be. To where I need to be. And then everything will all be worth it.

Ha…They always fall…
Who’s the pathetic one now?

THE LOST

Please send help. I’m in need. Like desperately. Like now. Why won’t you listen?

They turn in circles inside a cave of mirrors. Reflections mangled. Distorted. Pathways are blocked.

And time warps. Everything folds in on itself.

I need a miracle here. Everything is falling apart. I don’t even feel like I’m rock bottom – I feel like I’m sub level thousand!

Their desperation is the most obvious cry for help.

They see the answer. A literal light at the tunnel. A beacon to bring them out. And they go for it.

I need… I want… I’m longing for… I desire…

They do realise Santa Claus is a marketing campaign?

They wait for the response.

Oh sweetie…
I listen
But the providing is on you.

Why wish?
Dreams are for the hopeful,
Luck for the skeptic,
Fantasies for the lost.
You have to grow the lemons to make the lemonade.
You have to lay the yellow brick road before you can follow.

So,
Make a wish
Take a chance
And then go out and do it.