Welcome to Tuesday Tales, powered by a curated circle of authors, where word prompts inspire passages in the books we’re writing. The word of the day is silly. This week’s excerpt is from Incarnations, in which deities discover what it’s like to live as human. When you finish, make sure to visit all the talented authors of Tuesday Tales.
Ione seemed to grow taller as she stood in the West. The swirls of energy grew, stirred by the circle’s participants. She trembled uncontrollably and wondered if she would shake apart. Will I even be able to speak? She squeezed the blue stone to anchor herself. In her mind appeared a rippling sea. And then a pod of dolphins. Their faces were spread with cherubic smiles. Although she was aware of the sea’s panorama with its churning hotspots, the dolphins had eyes only for each other. They chittered, nudged and bumped, laughed, and played silly games. They seemed to be telling her, “Unserious. Unserious! It’s fun time. It’s untime. The little hand is on thirteen.” She breathed. Her shoulders loosened. She was in the circle, she was in the sea, she was anywhere she wanted to be.
Halting phrases stumbled from her lips, as if she were learning a language. “Guardian of the West, home of the resting sun, great mother ocean, we open to your merriment. Sacred play is all. We are safe and serene in your blue waters. Fill our hearts with abundance. May we reflect you, as you reflect all.” She may have said other things as well. Her head seemed a long way above her body. When the ripples stilled, she lowered her arms.
The priestess opened a palm toward the snow-haired woman beside her in the circle. “Call to the North.”
With her crystal earrings glimmering in the firelight, the woman began to speak. Ione was too riveted in the residue of her own call to the West to fully focus on what was being said. Individual words and images filtered through. An old green forest, new sprigs budding. Slowly Ione returned to herself. The soles of her feet prickled. What had been slumbering, stirred. Abundance sang. Renewal echoed in the wilderness.
Ione had thought the North would complete the calls. To her surprise, the priestess evoked the Below. She asked for love and guidance from the wise ones who came before. A humming swelled from deep within the earth.
She did the same with a call to the Above. Lifting her head to the stars, she invited the graceful one who “never left. When others spread to the wind, you stayed with us. You remain today.” Her clear voice intoned, “Astraea.”
Thanks for stopping by. I hope you enjoyed the selection inspired by the word silly. If you haven’t done so already, check out the other excerpts at Tuesday Tales.
Cheers & Happy Reading!
Flossie Benton Rogers, Conjuring the Magic with Spirited Stories
All rights reserved, copyright @ 2026 Flossie Benton Rogers
