“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.

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“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.

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