Once the witch was placed next to the window nailed shut, he would enter the room and ask her to relief the world from her voice too sweet.
„But I haven‘t even said anything“, she would whisper.
„So you will never know the blessing of silence“, he would respond.
Once her hands were in chains and bound behind her back, he would sit next to her and ask her to stop bleeding.
„But you cut through my skin“, she reminded him.
„And you are unable to heal“, he stated.
Once she was resting on hay and on mold, he would look right into those infectious witching eyes and ask her to confess.
„But I haven‘t done a thing“, she would say.
„Not one single thing?“
„Not one thing.“
„So you will never know the joy of forgiveness“, he judged.
A witching lesson learned
“You feel so far away todayYour path leads northAnd mine does not. I came across a field just nowI thought thatYou might like it. Eyes wide openArms stretched outI still had much to learn. And when I crossedYour path back thenI thought that you could show me. How Skin could feelHow blood could cookA heart…
A witch with no regrets
This night feels cozy.Midnight has passed.No sleep, but another cup of tea in vanilla scented candlelight.“Are you saying you have no regrets?”, my witch giggles. When I was younger, I was often warned that I would regret the things that I did. I remember being 10 years old and finally telling my family that I…
Heavy rain and zombie fire – A small town of resilience part 2
This is a hopeful post, although it might not look like it at first. Recently, the region I am living in is experiencing a historical wildfire, and it was getting terrifyingly close to the city that gave me a lot of inspiration to write my witching novel. The town is called Monschau, and who is…
Mistress witch writes 