I had to think about the daydreams that Layla had brought into my life.
To those musings that energize, that cast feelings, give wings to fly.
That make the skin feel softer, enlightened.
In those empty days, they were everywhere.
They where the last thing I thought about at night. And the first thoughts in the morning.
They were the only way to take a deep breath.
They were what made me run.
But sometimes, they were terrifying me.
„I don‘t want them to hurt me“, I whispered then, and stopped knitting the elf that I had been working on.
It was way too warm for early May.
On the window sill, over the doorknobs, and on my old arm chair face masks that I had just cooked were hanging and slowly drying in the early summer’s heat.
„Hurt you?“ Layla said, sitting on the one free spot on the window sill. Barefoot. A blue gown, this time.
Her elf knitting was way better than mine.
„I was so happy“, I whispered. „For a very short time, I was so happy. I felt so safe.“
My fingers were shaking too much to knit the ears of the elf. „It changed me to have been that happy. I feel different, I am different.“
„But that‘s good right?“, Layla asked. „Maybe, you can still keep that feeling. Form those words with your lips, taste the coffee, remember the cake. Someday, those things will be there, again. And until then, it‘s a part of you.“
„I am afraid of that moment in which I realize that everything I dream of is really lost, and I will have to look for new things“, I eventually whispered. „I can imagine this sudden realization ripping me apart, deep inside. And I don‘t want that.“
„But you can‘t let go, either“, Layla stated.
„No, because that would rip me apart even more.“
Had I ever been that honest with her? I don‘t think so.
Layla put her cigarette into a still wet tea bag lying on her plate. Inside that tea bag was her own combination of mint and other herbs that I had never seen or smelt before.
„Does it really matter if it will ever come true?“, she asked, after taking another sip of her witching tea. „Does it really take that feeling from you? That feeling, when you form those words, or relive those tastes?“
In Layla‘s eyes, there was a sudden sparkling.
I loved those moments in which a unique kind of madness sparkled in her eyes.
„When I was your age“, she continued, „and I mean, when I was really your age. With body and soul, and everything else. Back then, I was accused of something that I could only have done in a dream, and everyone knew that.“
I could not follow.
„It did not matter, whether I had left my bed at night, or not“, my witch continued. „Once my husband had confirmed that he had found me sleeping, but also not so much sleeping with him, people kept insisting that my dreams could have still carried me away.“
„Carried you where?“
Layla giggled. „Out into the mountains, to join the devil and demons, and other witches of course, while celebrating all dark and evil. And, I have to say, in those fearful descriptions of the terrified residents of our town, it really appeared that whoever visited those exclusive devil-parties got to enjoy themselves.“
„You mean, they accused you of dreaming about that?“
„Yes and no.“ Layla seemed too amused while talking about horrors like this. „They were aware that my body had almost certainly not moved. They also were convinced that I was a witch guilty of partying with the devil and demons. So, it did not matter anymore. It did not matter anymore, in which way this had ever been true, because in some level to them it was true. And so it almost got me burned.”
I was confused.
„Almost?”
And Layla only laughed.
“You know … In a way, I dreamed of things they feared. Not of having a demonic wine tasting on a mountain top … but of other things I could not have. Of sleeping next to someone else. Of being able to touch someone long dead. Of singing for someone long lost. Of things that did not belong into this world anymore, but were deeply desired by me.”
A tale about the power of dreams, of dreams that happened inside of more than one head, and caused an own reality to happen, for more than one pair of eyes to see.
But as Layla would say: “Dreams were dreamed. Orgasms were had.”
Was this one important aspect of the witchcraft that Layla could offer?
Definitely.
Mistress witch writes 