Dystopia ride!

„Why did you do this, sweetie?“, asks the woman with the colorful painted face, as her eyes are already losing focus again.

We were driving through the golden evening sun, and the other passengers were observing us skeptically.
The woman who had started talking to me was maybe 40 years old, and her face was painted in green and yellow cascading into a gray disappearing behind her mask more and more losing hold.
„I‘m so sorry for you, my darling“, her breaking voice continued, and more and more other passengers were focusing their attention on us.

Should I put my jacked back on?

„I didn‘t do this“, I tried, but she just laughed.
„Sure, Cutie“, she said. „Just like I don‘t need amphetamine to think clearly.“ And she loses focus and giggles again. „I‘m an artist, you know? I also teach arts. But I‘m a mess and I can‘t live alone anymore. So, I have to find one of these places where people get help, but the woman I love won‘t help and now I have to do that all on my own. But she still comes around to have me do her, you know?“ A sudden cough interrupted her speech. „My name is Kat Merrie, and I need Ecstasy to relax.“ And there she laughed again. „I live in a container in Höntrop. Will you visit me there?“ I decided to nod carefully. „Good. But I really have to get out of there“, she kept on talking. „I can‘t do this alone anymore, you know?“
I did not know, but looking at her, I understood very well.
„Great“, she exclaimed, and I read serious concern on the faces of the other passengers around, so I decided to smile even brighter. „But, Cutie, why did you do that to yourself?“
„I didn‘t“, I insisted. „It was my cat.“
And she focused her eyes on me again. „No, that can‘t have been your cat.“
I sighed deeply.
Why did I even try? You couldn‘t mess with someone surviving as Kat Merrie had done.
„You know why?“, she went on. „Because you did that yourself.“
The way I was holding eye contact meant capitulation, and for a moment she understood, and with a smile retreated deep into her messy mind again.
Eventually, I got up to leave the train and her blurry eyes widened.
„You‘re leaving?“, she asked. „But we just became friends. I am so sorry for your arm! Please visit me!“
And I smiled sadly. „I will.“

Leaving the train, I cast one last view on the other passengers who were clearly concerned about who Kat Merrie would talk to next, and I realized how busy and determined each one of them looked.
“In a weird way it’s nice to have been the one Kat Merrie would leak it all out to, right?”, my witch teases me, and I think she has a point.
I am glad I did not put my jacket back on.

My witching autumn desk

This was my longest quiet. My witch took a few weeks off. I have a lot of things to say, dark and urgent things! But my health made me pause everything. The first time in my life I’m saying that. I’ll be back in the next few days! Until then, enjoy the witching mood at…

Why do we stop doing things?

“When for health reasons we stop being ourselves, what is left then? ”, I complain to my witch just when the cold and dark season is ready to arrive. I am usually decorating a cake when the message I am dreading arrives. The pastry bag in hand, I read one cancellation after another. Of course,…

When we fall …

Who’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us all?Who’ll be thereIn the end? Late at nightI hear his voiceAnd I know thatHe waved her goodbyeThrough the noiseOf a world turning away. Laughter fromA window aboveBlurry lightsAnd I know thatShe gave upon loveRight there. And I wonderWho’ll be thereWhen we fall?Who will comeTo catch us…

Published by Mistress Witch writes

About the historical horror of living. Drafting my witching novel. Chasing dark, forgotten and haunted tales.

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