….For 9 years I waited for the letter to arrive. I hung onto the hope that in this grey world filled with such mediocrity, that I would be singled out. As if somehow destiny would be kind enough to entrench me in a world that would evolve my very being.
It was the thought of magic that consumed me. Thee beauty, seductive nature of this balanced energy, something that came from the every fibre of my being.
This is JK Rowling’s legacy. To,not only write books but create a world so deeply rooted in the imagination, the words flowing in an ensnaring pattern of singular thought. By all the great deities I still bow to the superiority of her creativity. For the 10years that those books and movies came into being I waited. I wanted to be a part of this historical feat. It was one. This woman has built an empire from the slowly turning, un-oiled coils and springs, sparks and wires of her mind. I escaped to this world because it had the adventure I’ve always craved, delved in magic-dark or otherwise- but the nuances of manipulating energy and the intricacy of spellwork. I wanted the spirit of it all, the grandiose castle, the eccentric panel of teachers. I wanted the world beyond this boring existence. Its as if Africa has no place in the world save for being the stereotyped “dark continent”.
I guess I’d be considered a Squab or a muggle.
…But 9years on, I sometimes dream of getting that letter…or maybe just the magic.