“When I was your age–,” she began, but I cut her off.
“You’ve never been my age. I’m older than you.”
She blinked, confused and caught in the memory of another life. “Not now; before. I was a monk. By the time I was your age I’d discovered the meaning of life.”
For some reason, it really irks me when she talks about her past lives. “So you had it all figured out,” I snapped. “And what’s the meaning of life?”
A smile graced her lips. “You were there too; you’ll remember. I don’t want to ruin the surprise.”
Author’s Note: The idea of reincarnation fascinates me. The idea of remembering those previous lives fascinates me even more.
“I can’t believe you. You promised me you were going to be nice.” Violet clenched her fists in frustration.
“I was nice! I could have transformed him into a newt, harvested his eye. It’s hard to come by fresh eye of newt these days. Sometimes they give you toad, sometimes salamander. The market is a dishonest place.”
“You didn’t have to transform him into anything! He was just taking me to the dance.”
“He still can.”
“Dad, you turned him into a cactus.”
“I gave him a pot; he’s portable.” Her father smiled in satisfaction. “Just don’t dance too close.”
Author’s Note: Surely a wizard father would be as protective of his baby girl as any other father. No gun threats needed from a wizard though.