It was magical. And it was mine.

I would wake with the ability of flight.

THE MAGICAL ROCK BY ASHLEY WHEAT 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 51

I used to think that all great-uncles gifted their great-nieces magical rocks. It took me years—six at least—to realize the words my father conjured up the next morning after my great-uncle’s visit formed nothing but a story. At first it wasn’t. It wa…