Short Story Saturday: The Broom

I have decided to start having a Short Story Saturday! I really hope I can keep this up. If anyone wants to send me any short stories you have written then I will appreciate it very much and as always give you credit. I'm kicking this off with a short story I've written called The Broom. I hope you enjoy it!

The Broom

I always knew that I was different from other people. Things would happen around me which I could not explain. I tried many times to rationalize why these things would happen. Maybe the singing at night in the forest behind my childhood home was just someone in the homes nearby. Maybe the glowing balls of light I saw floating around sometimes were just my eyes playing tricks on me. I always told my mother everything that happened. My mother asked all our neighbors the next day but they said they were all asleep the time I heard the singing. She took me to the eye doctor and he said my vision was perfect. My mother just thought my imagination was active or that I had been mistaking my dreams for real events. I started to believe her and throughout my childhood and young adulthood I learned to ignore it all. Then something wonderful happened to me about ten years ago. I’m now forty and I look back on this event realizing how much it has changed me. Something got switched on in me like a light bulb and I was able to see the truth.

It was a sleepy Friday in the small town of Prout’s Neck in Maine. I was on my front porch sweeping the Autumn leaves in the dimming light of the setting sun. I had always liked sweeping and used only wooden brooms. My husband always teased me that I would get a bunch of splinters if I didn’t get a different kind but the plastic or metal ones just didn’t feel right to me. I stopped for a moment and sighed. A beautiful orange and pink sunset was on display and the colorful maples had their shadows cast on the ground. I inhaled the October air which was filled with a million smells. The salty sea, spices of pies the neighbors had made, smoke from fireplaces, and of course herbs from my garden were only a few. I closed my eyes and heard very few sounds: My children giggling at their father who was reading them a bedtime story, a dog barking in the distance, a faint sound of water and seagulls, crickets, and my own breath. My breathing was calm and peaceful. I let everything fill me and make my heart light with love. I loved living here, I loved my family, and I just felt as if I was rising toward the sky. Then I opened my eyes and realized to my shock that I was! The broom I was sweeping with was above my head and I was a good two feet above the ground. I started to become afraid and as soon as this feeling ran through me I fell right on my bottom. The broom fell out of my hands and clattered on the wooden boards. I sat their in astonishment for a moment gazing at the broom, watching for movement. I got up slowly while rubbing my sore rump. I crept toward it, stooped down, and gripped its wooden handle. All those feelings poured back into me as if the broom had captured them forever. It was as if I had infused it with the love I felt moments before. It was as if something woke up in me that was always there but was formerly sleeping. It overwhelmed me and I closed my eyes to calm down. I felt the course wood at my fingertips and for some reason decided to let go. I opened my eyes and the broom was floating in the air. It lowered itself below my hips as if it was telling me to jump on. I felt the corners of my mouth lift in a smile as a spark of wildness filled my soul. I gleefully did as it wished. I hung onto the handle as I zipped up toward the sky. Moments later the broom evened and slowed to a calmer pace. The wind blew through my hair and I felt its coolness on my warm cheeks. I flew over the bay. The moonlight sparkled on the water. I lowered myself so I was gliding just above it. I reached down and felt its fresh coldness on my skin. I looked up at the full harvest moon and rose toward it. It’s light made my skin seem to glow white in contrast to my black dress. I looked at the stars which were twinkling. My attention was drawn again to the water below me. I noticed something strange. The sparkles seemed to be growing into small balls of light. All at once they started to rise around me and from them came a sound from my childhood. The singing I once heard in the woods was echoed within them. It was as if each light had its own voice but all of them combined to sing in harmony. It was an unearthly beautiful song which I will never forget.

As soon as the flight started, it seemed to end. I was lowered to my porch and finally came to a stop. I got off the broom and placed it in its usual spot next to the door. I was filled with a sense of bliss. I look back on this now and know that this was when all my questions were answered. I remember thinking to myself, "I am different because I am magical and I am magical because I am a witch!".