Delilah boiled the kettle for the third time that morning, already filled to the brim with tea and wired with caffeine, she busied herself getting the cups and teabags ready. Another quick glance at the luminous digital clock only seemed to confirm that time was slowing down, her stomach knotted up. My company wasn't enough today to calm down her nerves. She holds onto me with her sweaty hands and whispered, "We need this. Work your magic, baby". This could mean only one thing. I've seen this before. The last time I saw her veins popping from her forehead was when she was agitated to open her call letter from the University. She held onto me in one hand and letter in the other; her eyes started tearing up as she read, "Dear Miss. Delilah Ann Vincent, we're happy to inform you tha-". She was ecstatic from getting accepted into a prestigious university and to pursue what she likes: Literature. Her mom embraced her with love and pride that her daughter's hard work didn't go for nothing . That memory is vividly still in my eyes as that's the last time I saw Mrs. Vionna Vincent.

Delilah applied some fine powder to her face. Extract from rose petals were used as rouge while another took a stick of kohl and gently lined her eyes with the black powder. Beeswax and red dye were mixed together and rubbed on her lips. The kohl made her olive eyes brighter than usual. Pearl earrings were fastened to her ears and with a sweep of mascara, completed her beauty preparation. Red was always her color. She adjusted her blouse; not low enough for her cleavage to be seen but enough for her collarbones to shine through. Her neatly ironed black pants added professionalism to her look. Her wavy black hair left open to kiss her shoulders, leaving it to yearn for more. Her melanin popped buttery skin gave an enchanted look to her dark viridian eyes, an added sparkle. Anyone who has seen Mrs. Vincent will know where she gets her spell from. She touched me once again, her sweaty palms indicated, the significance of this meeting.

She glided over to her study table and carefully took a couple of letters, a manuscript and her laptop into her handbag. She took a peek at the clock, 11.13A.M. There was an explosion in her brain- the good sort- the type that carries more possibilities than she could be conscious of; but there were hundreds of ideas there in that buzz of electricity. She could feel it. It was the calling card of adventure, her dream come true moment, of paths awaiting her feet. Whatever was ahead could be a great challenge, and there could be tears, but it was her adventure to take and so she smiled. The ideas would come, probably when she least expected it, so she put on her high heels and took a step.

After a 20minute drive, we reached the restaurant to only find it fully occupied. Delilah's eyes wandered around at the busy tables. An old couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals. A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby looked on and frowned. There are Tourists, trying to decipher the menu and a family with their teenage children trying to decide on a course of meal. But, Delilah caught someone waving at her by the right corner of the restaurant. We didn't expect a crowd as it is a mild brunch with Mrs. Ashley Rogers. Delilah apologizes for being late but Mrs. Rogers assures her that she's right on time with a smile. She rubs me in hope, to calm her down and I give her that comfort. After exchanging the formalities, they got right into business. Delilah felt like every fiber of her being was vibrating with anticipation. Adrenaline was coursing through her veins. Her hands trembled and held mine with hope that I can help her. But, all I could do was to be there for her. Her ears yearned for the answers that will shape her life.

"Delilah, I agreed to be your agent, not as your mother's sister, no disrespect but I have more faith in your talent. I read the manuscript that you mailed me. I believe you have what the readers want. Not signing off anything but let's see, I have a good feeling about this." that's all she wanted to hear. I could feel her excitement from her throbbing chest. Failing to hide her joy, she squealed a heartfelt 'Thank you'. Delilah carefully handed over her manuscript, query letter and other details in a brown sealed file. Her aunt reassured that she will be assigned an editor that's appropriate for her work once she gets through with the publishing press. Delilah knew publishing a book isn't an easy job and she is in for the long haul but she knew it was worth it. Her first attempt to becoming something bigger in life was a success and that shattered all the fear she had.

Luck isn't what Delilah needed. She just wanted someone to say, "It's okay, you got this." Maybe we all do at certain points. Delilah felt that she needed something bigger than her to make things happen. She still thinks I made this happen and I'd be happy to accompany her whenever she needs a little bit of push to get through. Honestly, she just needed to trust her inner self with uttermost confidence. Happiness that invaded her face and shook her system is infectious and I'm  glad to witness this moment with her. Her smile was the most beautiful jewel I'd ever come across and yet she holds me as her lucky charm. Maybe, she feels Mrs. Vincent's presence in me. After all, I'm a resin jewellery made by her.

-Author's Note-

Hey guys! Thanks for reading. Do let me know how you feel :) If you're interested in seeing the resin jewellery, here you go!

When did you figure it out it was a jewellery that's talking to you?

And what's your lucky charm that gives you the extra boost in times of need?

Don't forget to press the star button <3