On Monday night we lie outside on sunbeds covered in duvets. I find it hard to keep my eyes open and the shooting stars are too quick for me.
Whatever the scientists say, to me shooting stars are messages from God. And I know too that the communication is two-way. Wishes made on shooting stars do come true, even if officialdom and seemingly intransigent rules are involved.
I don’t make a wish now because I’m not sure that I’m ready for mine – or that it is ready for me. It’s still floating around in the ether preparing to take form. I need to wait.
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