You Might Not Know Me, But…

Whenever you read a book, do you ever wonder if the characters within its pages are reading you back? Perhaps inviting you to join a faerie dance, or to celebrate their victories… or blaming you for their failures, or laughing while showing teeth because they did something awful and you just read and watched and did nothing to stop them.

On day 5 of NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015, address your poem to a fictional character or a historical figure. Please cite the title of the book, where your character appears, so that we can say hello (or I’m sorry) if we need to. If you choose a historical figure, do tell us his or her name.

Instructions

* Leave a link to your poem, as a comment. Include the title of your entry, and the direct link of your post. Example: “NaPoWriMo with Magaly Guerrero 2015”: http://magalyguerrero.com/napowrimo-with-magaly-guerrero-2015/. Visit other Wicked Darlings and comment on their yum. They might visit you back (it’s polite).

* If you use this prompt, please link it to your post. And if you are feeling extra delicious, link your poem to the main entry. Show others where to go. Spread the word. Linking back to the source brings smiles to the faces of killer dragons. Seriously.

*P.S. My apologies for being a tad late tonight. But my computer flashed me with the blue screen of death, the post I was drafting went poof… and I had to write it again.

DustfingerA Place Called Home”, by DaaRia
(This is Dustfinger, a character from Cornelia Funke’s Inkheart Trilogy, he is pulled out of his story… and he’s not happy with any of the people he considers responsible).

Pestle, Mortar, Pratchett

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With my pestle and mortar, I began to grind lavender blossoms and orange leaves.
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“Oh Maga,” Lorelei’s message echoed in my head. “We have lost Terry Pratchett.”

He died surrounded by family and while still remembering who he was, I thought. I hope he got his glass of brandy. I continued pulverizing blossoms and leaves until I had enough to make the biggest cup of tea in the universe.

But I didn’t feel like drinking tea. In fact, I had been sipping French vanilla coffee while pressing pestle to mortar and watching orange leaves and lavender blossoms become something new… and thinking about Terry Pratchett being gone.

I’m not exactly sure at what point in time I decided to put my grinding tools aside, and chose to recycle some left over bits of wax into a new candle.

I started melting the old wax and…
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… grabbed some lavender sprigs…
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…a recycled coffee filter, a pencil, scissors, three pennies and an empty jar;
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I cut the coffee filter into a wide strip, and wrote “You will be missed and remembered…”
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…twisted the strip into a wick, anointed it with rosemary oil, tied one end of it to the pennies, and the other to the pencil, which was balanced over the mouth of the jar;
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I poured the melted wax into the jar, and added three sprigs of lavender when the wax began to set… I stared at the cooling candle for a long time, inhaling its scent, trying not to cry. García Márquez last year and now Pratchett… Death must happen in order for life to continue happening. If not, we’ll run out of room.
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The practical thought didn’t dam my tears, so I repeated the previous process in the making of a smaller candle…
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After removing the pencils and trimming the wicks, I melted a wee chunk of recycled lilac candle, topped the new candles with the purplish liquid, sprinkled some of the lavender/orange powder over the wax, and brought them into my bedroom to finish cooling by me… as I wrote this post…
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The small candle is shining in front of some of my Knight Writer’s books. I will save the one in the golden jar to light on April 29th, Terry Pratchett’s birthday… after he has had his first long conversation with Death; and perhaps, a drink or three with the ghost of Gabriel García Márquez…
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Terry Pratchett
Sir Terence David John “Terry” Pratchett, OBE (28 April 1948 – 12 March 2015)
image via, DailyMail.com