Of Age, SpecFic Author's [chapter books to read to 5 year olds .txt] 📗

  Lincoln isn't fond of the days on which he wakes up to find his furniture floating around--couch bumping into the coffee table, bed slowly revolving up near the ceiling, and all of the lamps, as always, clustered in the corner near the bathroom door.

"Goddamn it . . ." He grumbles with a loud sigh, just as he sees this going on.

"Freeda! Stop it!" he yells at his little sister who is in another one of her impish moods.

The little girl gives him a sour look and stubbornly throws a book against the wall.

"Well, you could at least put everything back where it belongs, or don't they teach you anything useful in that magic school of yours?"

She doesn't answer, folding her arms across her chest.  Lincoln says, "Well, can you at least return my bed to the ground?"

Lincoln and his little sister live alone in the family mansion since their parents died two years ago. They had strong ties to the magical community where they lived. So when social worker’s wanted to put them in foster care it was the community  leader’s that stopped the proceedings.

I’m the oldest, what a shame that I'm the only one without powers, he thought disappointed.  "Please," he added. She still didn’t comply.

Finally fed up with his sister's attitude he said, "OK, leave me up here if you want to fix your own breakfast, and don't forget. It's three miles to school, and you don't drive."

"That's one thing they don't teach you at your little magic school is how to drive or fly . . ." He muttered under his breath.

Freeda stomped her food twice, and said. "I was just having a little fun." She stomped a third time and the bed came down with a loud plop to the wooden floor.

A rush of air escapes Lincoln's mouth. "Thank Jesus . . ."

"Free, honey" He says, "You know that I love you, but all this mischief has to stop."

"It's not mischief," she proclaimed with a pout. "It's magic."

"Whatever," He said, "Now you get ready for school while I fix breakfast."

Freeda nodded and skipped off.

 "Silly,sweet girl," her older brother mumbled, shaking his head as he watched  her. "Better go start that breakfast, I suppose."

Just as she got to the door, she turned to say, "I love you too, Lincs."

He smiled despite himself and headed to the kitchen. He stepped over the piles of junk and broken glass in his room. He'll have to clean that later.

He mumbled to himself. "Too bad only half of the males in our family have magical abilities, dad could have cleaned up this mess in a heart beat."

He shook his head, then frowned as unwanted thoughts cross his mind.

The thought that he may yet get his powers is one of the strongest, but that only happens rarely, and he doesn't want to get his hopes up for nothing.

In truth, it scared him, the whole . . . magic thing.

But if he was to get his magic, this was the year. No one had ever gotten their magic after his eighteenth birthday, and this year he would turn eighteen.

He almost wished that his birthday would just pass already, so that at least the period of not knowing would be over.

About that time plates flew out of the cabinet and silverware out of the drawer breaking his musings, Freeda had set the table in her usual way.

"Right. Breakfast," he said.

"See Lincs, I can do good things with my magic," Freeda announced with a sweet smile as she entered the room.

Publication Date: 08-23-2014

All Rights Reserved