Read Whispering Wishes Online

Authors: Jennifer Miller

Whispering Wishes















Copyright © 2014 Jennifer Miller

Cover Design by BookFabulous Designs

Edited by CDK & Associates

Formatting & typography by
Inkstain Interior Book Designing

Proofing by Edits by V

Photography by Brad Olson

Cover Model: Sarah Singleton

Dress Designer: Monique of Ouma at Cleo & Clementine



ISBN 978-0-9894074-5-8


All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.











To Georgia—

thank you for being my real life Mischa. I can't wait for many more moon wishes, dream boards, coffee dates, and laughs. Lots more laughs.







Pretty Little Lies

Barnes & Noble


Pretty Little Dreams

Barnes & Noble





That promotion at work will be mine! If I’m lucky, it will be accompanied with a big fat raise and my very own administrative assistant. The raise will be so huge, I’ll gasp at the amount.


My big fat raise will allow me to get a new car, like a Mercedes or a Ferrari. Yes – wishful thinking, but that’s the point, right? At the very least, my poor civic will last a while longer so that I don’t have to take on a car payment again since the civic is paid off.


I will date more and in the process become a sensational sex goddess. My moves will be legendary and men will flock to me in order to pay witness to my mad skills.


I will make a ton of new friends and my social calendar will be so full I’ll have to “pencil people in”.


My landlord will finally sell my house to me like she’s been promising. No less than fifty percent of my rent will be applied to the purchase price. I’ll finally invest money into it and decorate it how I want to because it will be all mine.


I will try new things. An exciting new opportunity will come my way and instead of overthinking things like I tend to do, I will give it a chance. Dive in with both feet.


I’ll make at least one unexpected trip to visit my parents and bring them a piece of good news about me (based on your majesty having granted these wishes).


I will make more time for the things I love but never do, like reading, going to concerts, picnics in the park and the movies. But if it’s the movies, I will try to not devour an x-large popcorn, soda and candy – by myself.


My friendship with Mischa will get deeper and stronger.


Most importantly, I’ll find the man of my dreams, my soul mate – my other half. Of course, that’s after accomplishing #3 so that I can keep him once I find him!



My best friend
is a lunatic. I’m pretty sure I misunderstood her, but then again, maybe not. And why should I be surprised? She is
always giving me crystals and paraphernalia with supposed various benefits and instructions on what to do with it all. I have numerous chakra bracelets, books on meditation techniques and sachets filled with all kinds of oils and God only knows what else to fix something or help banish whatever ails me at the time. Why should this be any different?

I’ll never forget the first time we met.
Walking into my assigned freshman college dorm room, nervous, yet eager to meet my new roommate, I didn’t at all expect what I encountered. I was already feeling on edge about the fact that our cohabitation had been arranged rather than chosen, and feared that we wouldn’t get along or have anything in common.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, and I had spent
a fair part of the morning convincing myself that this would be a great experience. I practiced a friendly and warm hello that was now ready on the tip of my tongue. I entered, peeked over the boxes in my arms, and my practiced greeting quickly fell flat. Stepping into the room, I felt my jaw drop to my chest; my head slowly turn from side to side as my eyes bulged from their sockets. I was simultaneously seized with wonder, amazement, and a strange aroma. Part of me thought I should run and hope that I had misread the number on the door. My roommate had not only arrived ahead of me, but had decisively claimed her space. Half of the room was completely decorated. A large dream catcher hung from a wall, along with a tapestry full of sequins in a complicated pattern of bright colors. Sheer curtains hung from the window over one of the beds, along with a curtain of crystals. Incense burners sat on the dresser, one holding a still burning stick. A statue of Buddha was proudly displayed at the end of a row of books on her desk, and moving slightly closer, I read – or tried to read titles on their spines - certain they could not be associated with a chosen curriculum. Looking up, plastic glow in the dark stars like those I had seen in magazines as a child, were stuck to the ceiling.

All of that paled into comparison to my roommate, sitting cross-legged on her chosen bed holding some sort of rod
-like object in her hands. Her eyes were closed and I became aware of gypsy like music playing in the background while weird sounds emanated from her mouth. Again, I thought to drop my boxes right there and run away screaming down the hallways, but instead, I counted to ten, took a deep breath, and stepped fully into the room to introduce myself. Who would have guessed that the strange girl would inevitably be my best friend? Perhaps if I had immediately used her Ouija board or crystal ball, I wouldn’t have been so freaked out.

Blinking away the memory, I return to the conversation, “You think I should do what, now?”

I take in Mischa as she sighs at me. Today she’s got her long dark hair in gorgeous waves that fall to her lower back. She’s wearing a long, flowing, chiffon tank dress that swirls about her legs when she walks. Her feet are bare, and she has gold ribbon tied around the top of her head. When she moves, I can hear the light jangling from all the bracelets, necklaces and anklets she’s wearing. While she may be a bit eccentric in her spirituality, she’s a true beauty through and through – and I really do adore her. Even though I personally don’t believe in any of it. I do listen, because it does matter to me, simply because it matters to her.

We’re currently hanging out in her New Age Metaphysical store, Moonstones, and I’m watching her put away boxes of Tarot cards that just arrived in a recent shipment.
“It’s simple, Aspen. I don’t know why you are having such a hard time with this. What is there not to understand?”

barely manage to keep myself from rolling my eyes at her. “I guess I just find it hard to believe that it really works.”

I've never heard that from you before. Need I remind you of other times you have felt that way? You won’t know if it works unless you try, now will you? In fact, it wouldn’t hurt you to have that attitude towards everything in this store, Ms. Cynic. And besides, what do you have to lose?” She’s looking at me with her big brown doe eyes and while part of me wants to laugh at her quirkiness, I never will, because even if I’m not sure about whether or not something like this will work, she is. Besides, I have to admit, I can’t imagine her not being this way. It’s a huge part of who she is. She is so sincere, so genuine. And the truth is, I wouldn’t have her any other way.

“Alright, run it by me again.
Pretty please,” I add just to sweeten her up again.

She’s not fooled and smiles at me while rolling her eyes before explaining to me once more about the list she insists I need to make.
“It’s simple, and so exciting. On the night of a new moon, like tonight, you meditate about what you want to happen in your life. Things you want to change or declarations you want to make. You let those thoughts manifest themselves into a list that you write out. Basically, you make strong, declarative statements about what you want.”

“Okay, got it.
A list. That seems easy enough. Then what?”

She neatly stacks the last set of Tarot cards and turns toward me, brown eyes shining as she continues explaining, “You reflect and think deeply on your list, internalize it, and when you’re ready, you burn it.”

I raise my brows. “Burn it? Why? What does that do?”

“It represents sending your wishes for your life into the universe.
The universe will accept them and then you just need to be confident in the message you sent, and let the universe do her thing.”

“Do her thing?”

“Yes,” she sighs at me as she walks behind the register and grabs the duster. “Trust the universe to work its magic and take care of you.”

“And that’s it?”

“Yes, that’s it. Pretty simple.”

“What kind of things have you put in your list when you’ve done this?”

“Oh, well you know, things like my store will continue to do well,” she stops dusting and looks at the ceiling like she’s trying to remember, “I’ll keep myself open mentally and spiritually in order to hear whatever magic the universe tries to communicate to me. I’ll spend more time fostering relationships in my life that matter to me, like with you,” she smiles, “with my parents, and my Aunt Marianna. That kind of thing.”

“Well, okay.
I can do that.” I’m sitting on the counter by the register, swinging my legs as I watch Mischa continue to run the duster over all her store’s treasures.

“Yes, you can.
Now stop asking questions and just do it already. Tonight.”

I jump off the counter and walk up to Mischa and smack a kiss on her cheek
. “Yes, oh wise spiritually gifted best friend of mine.”

“Smart girl,” she laughs
. “You leaving?”

I’m going to head home and do a few things around the house and just relax before I go into work tomorrow. Tomorrow is the big day!”

“I know.
They announce the big promotion, tomorrow. Are you ready?”

I’ve been waiting for this forever, it’s about time they promote me.”

“You more than deserve this,” Mischa agrees.

“You got anything in here that will help me be in a zen frame of mind in order to deal with Brandi tomorrow?”

Mischa’s mouth turns up in the corners, likely because I used the word zen
. “Brandi is still making you crazy?”

“Yes, she’s so ridiculous.
She can’t even take a phone message correctly. Why my stupid boss hired her as a receptionist, I will never understand. Wait, I take that back. Of course I know why. It’s because of her huge tits.”

Mischa admonishes, but a giggle escapes her mouth before she can stifle it.

“Well, it’s the truth.
You can practically see his erection tent his pants when he looks at her. It’s gross. You need to come visit me at work some time so you can check it out. Only then will you truly be able to feel my pain.”

“I’m sorry sweets, but I don’t know if there is anything in the store that can make you be zen enough, as you put it, to deal with her.”

I sigh dramatically. “You’re probably right.”

“How about we plan on doing lunch a day this week?”

“Yeah, cool, that sounds perfect. See you later, babe.” I walk towards the door, already searching for my keys in my massive handbag. You would think I would learn to not buy such large handbags or to put my keys in the side zipper compartment or on a larger ring, but no. That would make sense.

“Peace be with you!” Mischa calls behind me as I walk out the door.

“And also with you,” I throw back, knowing it made her smile.

In the parking lot when my civic comes into view, I once again wonder how much longer she’s going to last.
Oh, well there's an item to put on my list of wishes. This baby is on her last leg, but she’s paid off and I need her to last for another year at least.
Or maybe not if the universe has other plans
, I think in a slightly cynical manner. Knowing compliments go a long way, I murmur them to my little car as I put the key in the ignition, begging her to stick around a bit longer.

Before long, I’m pulling into the driveway of my little house, my pride and joy.
I just wish I owned it and could truly call it mine. It’s perfect. I knew the moment I saw it that I would make it my home. My landlord keeps promising to eventually sell it to me or do a rent to own kind of thing. I’m not clear on why she hasn’t done it yet, but I hope I’m wearing her down. I should probably call her again and have a chat. The squeaky wheel gets the cheese. Or is it the squeaky mouse gets the cheese? Well whatever – I know what I mean.

Putting my keys and purse on the table by the door, I stand for a moment thinking about the few things I need to get done.
I begin with putting the dishes away from the dishwasher, then strip the sheets from my bed and throw them in the washer. I dust, vacuum, finish folding my last load of laundry, and when that’s all done, evening has set in and I realize I’m starving. I don’t feel like cooking a meal, it’s a pain in the ass to just cook for one sometimes, so I elect to throw a frozen dinner, chicken and rice, into the microwave. When it’s done, I settle on the couch and begin flipping through the channels on the TV. I’m barely seeing what’s in front of me because my mind won’t quit turning about this list of wishes thing that Mischa told me about.

I inhale my dinner and then with a sigh, grab paper and a pen and head outside.
I sit down at the little bistro table and chair set on my back patio and look up into the sky, gasping softly when I take in the moon. The moon is shining so brightly tonight, it’s all you can see. The stars are hiding, almost as if they know they can’t compete with the moon and won't bother trying. The night feels still, like the moon has cast a web of silence all around me. I can’t help but wonder how many other people are staring up at its beauty right now, just as I am. How many are missing someone tonight, thinking about life, or actually making wishes? At the same time, I feel like the moon is here as a gift just for me, and I revel in the glow I feel kissing my face. Funny how something can make you feel both significant and insignificant at the same time.

I take a deep breath, and return my focus to the task at hand.
I rock from side to side a bit trying to get more comfortable in my chair, and shake my arms and do neck circles for good measure. I close my eyes and think about what I want just like Mischa told me to. I briefly wonder if I should hum really low or chant something or maybe sit in a yoga pose, but I discard them all and surprisingly, things that I want in my life start coming to mind. I start writing them down, one after the other. It doesn’t matter how silly, materialistic or unrealistic they are, I write them all.

Before I know it, I have a whole page full of wishes.
I go back through and read each one, making adjustments here and there. I nod my head when I get to the end. I close my eyes and reflect on them once again like Mischa instructed, but when my mind starts wandering to things like what color I should paint my toe nails and how giraffes have really long necks, I decide I’ve reflected enough.

I step back inside and root through my kitchen junk drawer for my butane lighter, flick it, but find it lacking in fluid and not working so scrounge for the matches I keep stashed there.
I eventually find them and then walk back outside. Caught up in the moment, I decide to go through my list one more time and whisper each line to myself with feeling. Then, I fold the list into squares, light a match and set it on fire. I stare at the flame, mesmerized by it. “Ow! Shit! Motherfucker!” I drop it on the glass table after it burns my fingers and watch the paper curl in on itself as it burns into nothing but ash. A steady white swirl of smoke trails into the air as if it’s taking my wishes to the sky. When the last orange ember fades, I wait a few moments before scooping the ashes off of the table and into the palm of my hand. I look at them for a moment and then lift them to my mouth and blow. At the same time I blow, a gentle breeze picks up out of nowhere, captures the remnants of my wishes and sends them flying. I can’t help but give a small smile at the magical feeling of it all.

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