“Tell me it’s real.” I whispered into the early fall wind, the summer heat yet to exit the stage. ”Tell me it’s real.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
Surprised at the answer, I wasn’t surprised at the gentle brushing of wings over my skin. ”I just want to know.”
“You can’t always know.” Tiny feet danced up my arm. ”Sometimes you have to have faith.”
“How do you have faith when everything tells you something you know isn’t true?” I whispered. ”How do you have faith when everyone thinks you’re crazy?”
Nestling in the crook of my shoulder, soft wings kissed my neck. ”How do the cows know it will rain before the weather man does? How do the flowers know it’s time to sleep before the first cold snap? How do dogs know who is good and who is bad?”
“Faith,” I whispered. ”But all that is easy.”
“Faith is never easy, nor is hope and love.” Another kiss of wings. ”But the alternative is terrifying and depressing.”
“But how?” I closed my eyes, feeling the last strands of sun tickle my face. ”How do you have faith all the time?”
“You laugh.” Antennae brushed my cheek, a reassuring flicker of comfort. ”You dance. You twirl. You sing. You can’t have faith without joy.” He leaped into the air, fluttering past a old oak tree. Shielding my eyes with my hand, I reached out and caught the first orange leaf as it fluttered down.
And then I smiled.
What do you have faith about ,Invisible friends?