On the sparkle-

Her travels had taught her not to wait for the sparkle, to welcome it yes, but not to wait for it. Magic unearths in the middle space where mundane and surprise collide.  There you find the serendipity of a life lived in present, fully aware of its surroundings and this truth: there are no coincidences. 

None.

Like when an attempt to watch fireworks from the helicopter pad above the 27th floor of your flat is abducted by crowded elevators and locked doors, but you soon find the less crowded back road of your building is where the real magic lies. Then your hand brushes not-so-accidentally against his and you realize this is the sparkle. Standing beside him as your fingers entwine, surrounded by new friends; the kind you know will be good. Present there in what would appear as accidental space, your heart beats a bit faster. You're overwhelmed and relaxed in the same because this moment right here is all you ever wanted but couldn't comprehend...until now. Until it happened.

Now fully aware of your surroundings and this truth: there are no coincidences, you take a deep breath. Out comes resolve...

This.

This right here is the sparkle. The fireworks were only meant to be the backdrop. 

"…I see more than this,

More than I can tell you, more than there are words for."

—	T.S. Eliot