When autumn arrived, I took my witch shopping. We strolled through a city emptied and distanced. We were not distanced. We were close. Really close. When it began to rain, she giggled into my ear, and we got wet.
The lights so beautifully bright, because autumn made them brighter, as every year.
We bought face masks with a kitty face on them, and I was glad to have Layla with me and only with me.
When you take a witch shopping, of course she discovers a lot of transformations that she wants to undergo.
„I wish I‘d had violet hair, when I was sentenced to death“, and she put just another thing into our cart. „Can you pierce my nose?“ And she giggled again. „Hey, when you have to send me back, I will burn instantly, so there is only so much you can damage.“
I hesitated. „I will have to send you back?“
„Is that …?“, Layla had found something else. „Is that …?“
Yes, witches sometimes want to have a penis-shaped lollipop. Why not? Let‘s have violet hair and pierce our nose and lick some sugar.
„I‘ve felt so save in my old life“, I whispered, when we had arrived home, completely wet, of course. I can never feel that save again. Everything inside me screams Dystopia. I want to wear all black again, and tights with holes ripped into them, and I want to cut my hair. I want bangs, these weird, short ones.“
Layla giggled so sweet, and unpacked her sugar.
We began to put the violet dye into our hair, and I burst into tears. „She is dying“, I whispered. „The one that was when he was close. The one that waited inside of me for him to return and love her. She is over.“ I longed for the scissors. „I want to cut my hair. By myself. I want to look just like the lost soul that I am.“
What do you have witches for, if not to get scissors out of your hand? Layla took them.
„Maybe it‘s okay“, she said. „Sometimes, we have to change. Your worlds could still collide. Life is weird.“
„How…“ I sighed. „How can you be sure?“
„My plague doctor came back for me“, she answered, while licking.
„But, he died …“
„Yes, but before that I got to do stuff with him.“
And in this stormy autumn night, hair was dyed, and there were holes made into pieces of skin, but in a happy and sparkling way.
I wish I’d told you all my stories.
I want to tell you all my storiesIt’s not that they would changeIt’s just that I would likeTo see themFormA new expressionOn your face I need to tell you all my storiesI am not sureIf they makeSenseThe way I thoughtThey do. I will tell you all my storiesThey frighten meI’m sure you won’t endureI see…
Dealing with darkness in writing
This spring afternoon is glowing pink and tastes like strong tea. It feels much too familiar, and I begin to open up.I feel far away from myself as I start to talk, to babble on about my novel. About all the things I’ve been reading about in the past 5 years. About the 17th century,…
Radical witching novel rewrites at 4 AM!
I wore the same night dress my witch used to wear to get drunk on my windowsill, when I suddenly had an idea at 4 AM. Great ideas always happen at 4 AM, remember? This one however, kept me awake for at least a week, debating it back and forth. At some point my witch…
Mistress witch writes 
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