This was so effingfrustrating. If I clenched my jaws any tighter, my face would snap.

My grandmother sat across from me, serenity emanating from her like perfume, a scent she dabbed behind her ears in the morning that carried her smoothly through her day.

Well, I had forgotten to dab on my freaking serenity this morning, and now I was holding this piece of copper in my left fist, my fingernails making angry half-moons in my palm. Another minute of this and I would throw the copper across the room, sweep the candle over with my hand, and just go.

But I wanted this so bad.

So bad I could taste it. And now, looking into my grandmothers eyes, calm and blue over the candles flame, I felt like she was reading every thought that flitted through my brain. And that she was amused.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, all the way down to my belly ring. Then I released it slowly, willing it to take tension, doubt, ignorance, impatience with it.

Cuivre, orientez ma force. Copper, direct my power, I thought. Actually, not even thought-lighter than that.

Expressing the idea so lightly that it wasn't even a thought or words. Just pure feeling, as slight as a ribbon of smoke, weaving into the power of Bonne Magie.

Montrez-moi, I breathed. Show me.

You have to walk before you can run. You have to crawl before you can walk,

Montrez-moi.

Quartz crystals and rough chunks of emerald surrounded me and my grandmother in twelve points, A white candle burned on the ground between us. My butt had gone numb, like, yesterday. Breathe,

Montrez-moi

It wasn't working, it wasn't working, je nai pas de la force, rim du tout. I opened my eyes, ready to scream.