Description
Enjoy a new fantasy story, starring Regina.
Regina found herself in a quiet guesthouse room, the afternoon sun spilling gold across the walls. She had intended to take just a quick nap, sprawled out on the sofa in her comfy neon pink hoodie and grey leggings. But the soft cushions welcomed her into a dream.
In her dream, Regina stood at the base of a familiar hill behind her village, where the old white windmill lazily turned against the clear blue sky. Perched on the cool stone of the millstone was a water sprite—small and spirited, with hair cascading like a waterfall and eyes that sparkled like a mountain stream.
“Every spring,” the sprite said in a melodic voice, “the windmill grants one wish. But it only listens to someone who greets the spring sun soaked in living water—from the top of their head to the tips of their shoes. Exactly as they are. No changes, no taking anything off. The water has to meet the real you."
Regina jolted awake, stretching her arms above her head and chuckling to herself. Just a dream! But the sprite’s words echoed in her mind, and when she glanced out the window, the hill was there, the windmill standing tall, its sails beginning to turn.
*Exactly as they are,* the sprite had said. *Shoes included.*
Determined to follow the whimsy of her dream, Regina slipped on her black sneakers and laced them up with care, as if preparing for something significant. If she was going to do something a little crazy, she was going to do it right.
In the bathroom, she perched on the edge of the tub and turned on the hand shower. The first spray hit her sneakers, water streaming down to her ankles and transforming her grey leggings into a shiny darker hue. A gasp escaped her lips at the cold touch, followed by a burst of giggles. Next, she extended one arm and watched the bright pink of her hoodie deepen as the water soaked into the fabric and trailed off her fingertips.
Then, with a deep breath and a playful grin, she held the shower head over her head, allowing the water to pour over her blonde hair and splash across her face. The hoodie grew heavy, a dark pink drenched in the living water. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the tub, laughing like a carefree child, pulling the dripping hood up over her wet hair.
“From head to toe,” she declared, satisfied. “All done.”
Still dripping, she stepped out onto the balcony. The spring sun warmed her face, and the cherry trees on the hillside were in full bloom, their petals vibrant against the clear sky. The entire village looked fresh and new, just like her. She rested one hand on the railing, brushed her wet hair back with the other, and gazed up at the windmill perched on the hill.
Its sails were turning faster now, and Regina felt a flutter of excitement.
With her eyes closed, she made her wish. It was a secret she’d never share with anyone. But anyone who caught a glimpse of her on that balcony—soaked through and grinning in the sunshine—could sense that her wish was already taking shape.
Regina found herself in a quiet guesthouse room, the afternoon sun spilling gold across the walls. She had intended to take just a quick nap, sprawled out on the sofa in her comfy neon pink hoodie and grey leggings. But the soft cushions welcomed her into a dream.
In her dream, Regina stood at the base of a familiar hill behind her village, where the old white windmill lazily turned against the clear blue sky. Perched on the cool stone of the millstone was a water sprite—small and spirited, with hair cascading like a waterfall and eyes that sparkled like a mountain stream.
“Every spring,” the sprite said in a melodic voice, “the windmill grants one wish. But it only listens to someone who greets the spring sun soaked in living water—from the top of their head to the tips of their shoes. Exactly as they are. No changes, no taking anything off. The water has to meet the real you."
Regina jolted awake, stretching her arms above her head and chuckling to herself. Just a dream! But the sprite’s words echoed in her mind, and when she glanced out the window, the hill was there, the windmill standing tall, its sails beginning to turn.
*Exactly as they are,* the sprite had said. *Shoes included.*
Determined to follow the whimsy of her dream, Regina slipped on her black sneakers and laced them up with care, as if preparing for something significant. If she was going to do something a little crazy, she was going to do it right.
In the bathroom, she perched on the edge of the tub and turned on the hand shower. The first spray hit her sneakers, water streaming down to her ankles and transforming her grey leggings into a shiny darker hue. A gasp escaped her lips at the cold touch, followed by a burst of giggles. Next, she extended one arm and watched the bright pink of her hoodie deepen as the water soaked into the fabric and trailed off her fingertips.
Then, with a deep breath and a playful grin, she held the shower head over her head, allowing the water to pour over her blonde hair and splash across her face. The hoodie grew heavy, a dark pink drenched in the living water. Before she knew it, she was sitting in the tub, laughing like a carefree child, pulling the dripping hood up over her wet hair.
“From head to toe,” she declared, satisfied. “All done.”
Still dripping, she stepped out onto the balcony. The spring sun warmed her face, and the cherry trees on the hillside were in full bloom, their petals vibrant against the clear sky. The entire village looked fresh and new, just like her. She rested one hand on the railing, brushed her wet hair back with the other, and gazed up at the windmill perched on the hill.
Its sails were turning faster now, and Regina felt a flutter of excitement.
With her eyes closed, she made her wish. It was a secret she’d never share with anyone. But anyone who caught a glimpse of her on that balcony—soaked through and grinning in the sunshine—could sense that her wish was already taking shape.
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