A witch once climbed on top of the city wall.
Which was meant to keep her safe
and hidden from the world.
And what happened to the witch to make this tale worth telling?
Did she stumble?
Did she fall?
Land down on the pavement?
Scratch her knee?
Or break her ankle?
Has she been seen?
Caught by jealous eyes?
Found bleeding on the floor?
Not helped but left in pain?
Laughed at?
Cursed for her attempt?
„It‘s nothing like that“, the witch giggles.
The witch took a climb up.
The witch stood safe.
She did not fall.
She was not seen.
But she caught a glimpse.
On what lays ahead.
Of places to be.
Of shadows to chase.
Her infectious eyes and leaking soul learned secrets to take back home and keep.
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 