magical reverie postscript

Many years later, I stood before a reflection of myself. The waters trembled and the ripples grew intense. The dragon was still there beside me, holding my hand, his eyes reddened with tears. I stood flummoxed for the zing had happened but didn't last long. The mirror was shattered into a thousand pieces, just like the heart constantly stabbed with a thousand spears. The distorted self was seen, not in one piece but in the many thousand pieces. Destiny eluded from its destined journey, and my glasshouse of dreams was broken again. Only this time, it was no illusion, I looked at me who was made of a zillion pieces. Pieces of wrath, pieces of agony, pieces of pain, pieces of laughter, pieces of happiness, pieces of hatred, and pieces of love. Reflection tended to become intensely obscure as the ripples tended to recede. I had taken away the zing all for myself but the dragon loved what was happening. He was too happy to see what I had got, but regretfully he held my hand today. The zing I adored so much was in his hands, and with spread wings in the air, he let me go.

I flew with his wings, and the zing was burning in me once again.