Today’s prompt: “The villagers host a feast to celebrate the season. What is the feeling as you share this time together?”
Today’s music: Smooth Hustlin’ by 0DYSSEY. 🎧 Listen on SoundCloud.
The Village Feast
Everyone knew I was leaving at the end of the week. My time was up. It wasn’t like it was put on a calendar, but people felt it: that I’d come here to do what I needed to do. I’d faced my past, and perhaps come up the richer for it.
Or not, but either way, they were putting on a hero of a barbecue.
It reminded me of a place I’d worked where the Big Boss had said he didn’t want people throwing parties when staff left, because it encouraged them to leave. It was an insight into faulty thinking; people celebrating their friends brighter future wasn’t the same thing as celebrating their departure, and an easier solution than going full Orwell on people was to throw a few company-sponsored beer events.
Hearthlight seemed to think the same way; there was a little wistful sadness when Trudy handed me my ice cream. Mike spied me in the street and gave a friendly nod, but there was something else behind it, as if he’d have preferred me to stay. Dorothy was on his arm, and perhaps he’d mistakenly thought I’d made that happen. But it was all Mike and Dorothy, and would have happened eventually whether I played fetch with Maxwell or not.
When I arrived at the barbecue, it was already in full swing. The smell of roasting meat was on the air, with the pleasant accompaniment of laughter. An old battery-powered radio was cranking out a timeless classic by Huey Lewis and the News. Dorothy pressed a beer into my hand as she passed, but it was Hollis who more formally greeted me after she vanished back into the crowd. “Ready to go?”
“I don’t know how to answer that,” I said. “Is anyone?”
“Depends on where they’ve come from or where they need to go,” he confided. “Do you want to go?”
“No,” I said. “I like it here.”
Hollis gave a sage nod as if every right-minded person would like it here. “Hearthlight is a treasure.”
“No,” I said again.
He blinked. “What?”
“It’s not Hearthlight that’s the treasure. It’s everyone in it.” I stuffed my hands in my pockets. “I’m surprised you can’t see that.”
“Do you remember the thing about wizards and frogs?”
“If you were going to turn me into a frog, you’d have done it a long time ago,” I said. “You’ve had plenty of opportunity.”
He offered a lopsided smile. “But not plenty of reason.”
As he sauntered off, I wondered a little about that. I’d given people outside Hearthlight plenty of reason to want me turned into a frog. Certainly no one would have missed me terribly as I visited the hamlet. Was that okay? What was it about this place that made me listen to my better angels?
“You don’t have to go,” Sam said.
I stifled a scream; he’d materialised, perhaps having done his not-quite-evesdropping trick. “I have a life out there.”
“Do you?”
“Kind of. There are people. And things.” I looked at my beer. “I know I’m not selling it very well.”
“There are people here, too.” He wandered off, not waiting for me to process the Wisdom of a Ten-Year-Old™.
He wasn’t wrong. I studied the crowd. Hollis, laughing as he talked with someone unfamiliar to me. Trudy, engaged in tug-o-war with Maxwell, who believed firmly that his leash was his property. Sam, who watched his mum and Mike. Mike, who saw no one but Dorothy, and Dorothy who smiled, her wedding rig absent. Bernard the concierge, who had somehow managed to stack about thirty beers on a tray and was taking them to a huddle of laughing friends. And Hollis’s cat, who waited by the barbecue, perhaps ready to remind people that if cats didn’t get treats, dragons would take them.
Hearthlight was such a joyful place, but made so by its people. They all cared so much for each other, and I’d been lucky enough to share in that. It felt selfish to think about staying. I hadn’t earned their love; I’d been fortunate enough to be invited, was all. I was just the latest reclamation case, a derelict drifter who’d blown into town on a storm of misplaced emotions. They deserved much better than me hanging around.
I felt a little sad about the realisation, then it settled within me. It’s fine. I can take what I’ve learned back out there. Maybe I could be Hearthlight’s ambassador.
I’d just have to remember how, once I left this magical place.
Roll result? One last feast, one warm farewell, and a place to carry in your heart forever.
XP gained: 🧡 1 invitation accepted, 🌱 1 lesson carried forward, and 🌟 +1 to finding magic in ordinary places.
Ready for Day 23?
Hearthlight isn’t just a place; it’s a reminder of how we want the world to feel.
If Hearthlight has given you even a little light to carry, you can leave a kindness in return:
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