Secret 099 - Goddess Perfume

Martee is ghosted for a date. Banelle is crying in her dish soap. They shouldn't have anything to fight about today. An ancient spell surfaces during a Solar Eclipse and a mysterious man enters their lives. He calls himself Dollar, is he rich?
Volley
magnificent shadows
grabbing circling releasing
tangled in hurt and happiness
Goddess Perfume
Only magnificent lights cast magnificent shadows. Martee knew what strengths were in the shadows cast by her capacity to love. Friday, late morning Sun rising high. She felt let down again by the most recent man, and continued to yearn for the Sky God's collection of subterranean treasures. Martee's heart had reached a final place of resolve in her grieving. She needed to find a solution, even if it would break her heart to lose someone else close in making the change. Something just had to give...
Banelle regarded him with her eyes upon him for a long time while her hands moved nearly automatically, grabbing, circling, releasing, plunging like a favorite sunny memory into the warm soapy water, grasping and lifting, working the cotton wash cloth in circles. Turn, massage again in circles, move the plate to the other sink bowl. The remembering was soothing, and the Sun outside combined with the tinted glass of her kitchen's window likely meant he could not see her.
He hadn't looked toward her house at all...
Dollar wondered if the doorbell even worked. Should he knock?
He appreciated the solidly mortared pink-hued brick of the home, liked the color. The generous shady cedar canopy subtly teased the nose and likely explained why there was no glass weather door protecting the heavy, mellow-finished oak door, keeping Sun and rain away from the doorstep.
He did not like the cement he stood on though, the falsity of the material, he would have used stone for his dream home. He noted again the soon-blooming rose bushes along the walls of the front of the house needed trimming, fertilizing, a box of ladybugs added, and the lawn was improperly mowed, stressing the grass. He decided to knock loudly.
He heard a muted shriek, then heard the doorknob spin and rattle...
The Secret of Chocolate (Series). Imagine a love story written in the stars and reflected in the rain puddle you just stepped in - where the magick is as eye opening and sticky as the smell of latte in your hand. What could go wrong when a preternatural Author includes spells in his writing?
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