The Magic Faraway Tree

This is where fantasy writers are made.  Little minds that live in worlds of fantasy, where other people’s tales are never enough.  This is a true story of my imagination and how ‘When Fate Dictates’ was born.


  A fold in the material allowed a thin strip of moonlight into the room.  Shadows projected their image, teasingly onto the bedroom walls.  The air saturated the covers of the bed and the clicking of the Christmas beetles echoed in my ears.

 

My eyes stared at the tiny gap where my curtains met.  My mind travelled through the window and towards the sound that echoed from outside. I could feel the sharp blades of grass on my bare feet as I wandered across the wide expanse of our garden and up the bank behind the swimming pool, drawing ever closer to the tree. My friends, the fairies, lived in there.

 

They worked most of the time for Father Christmas but around Easter they helped the Easter Bunny out and of course, when needed, they were always available to lend the Tooth fairy a hand.

 

The tree was very special.  It produced a sticky magic sap; but only the fairies knew how to use it which was why they chose to live in the magic tree in my garden.

 

Mummy read me a story about a ‘Magic Faraway Tree’ but even that tree was not as important as the one in my garden because my tree was the one that made the magic for the magic world.

 

There were mysterious worlds at the top of my tree too.  The Fairies had taken me to them and they were much more exciting and dangerous than those Joe, Beth and Frannie’s tree took them to.  Besides which I was best mates with the Fairies and they were the most important part of the magic world.

 

They made sure that Father Christmas came to my birthday parties every year.  How special was that?  Santa took the time on Christmas Eve to stop at my house in South Africa and give all my friends a present.

 

I was quite sure Joe, Beth and Frannie’s tree was nowhere near as important as mine but that didn’t mean I wanted Mummy to stop reading me the stories.

 

Every morning I couldn’t wait to get back into the branches of my tree and tell the Fairies all about the new worlds Joe, Beth and Frannie had been to.

 

Then one night long after I should have been asleep I heard Mummy across the hall from my room.  She would be in bed soon.  Perhaps I could go now and climb my tree.  The Fairies would still be awake; they could take me to the top of my tree and up into the clouds.  We could have an adventure all of our own.

 

A warm breeze drifted through the open widow and the gap between the curtains widened.  The light shone brighter and I caught a glimpse of my red dressing gown, hanging on the back of my bedroom door.

 

Quietly I slid out of bed, pushed my arms through the sleeves of the dressing gown and stood by my door, listening for the catch on Mummy’s bedroom door to click...

 

 

 Where Did All The Fairies Go