Long night thoughts

Nights are long and cold now.
I am not really sure what they taste like.
„And the days are just cheating“, I complain to my witch.

While walking across the field, I have to admit that I was in a hurry, but I took one second to cast a view into the distance, and to feel the shy onset of a smile on my face as I spotted the Christmas decorations around the barns to my right.
At least the cows had a cozy Christmas feeling.
At least there were lights in the dark.
The dark months had once been my favorite ones, because they made me dream. Younger me did not feel tired when the days were gray and when it was biting cold outside. Back then, I loved the colorful leaves, the candle light and the increased need for a warm drink.
Lights in the distance are a reason to dream.
They are difficult to grasp. It‘s hard to tell how far in the distance they actually are, and sometimes they blur away between bare trees, or rain and snow.
Lights in the distance are like missing something.
They are just like this sweet but painful movement of the soul towards the promising horizon.

„I could not decide if my coffee was supposed to taste like Vanilla or not“, I tell my witch as we hurry away from the lights across the field. „Last week I even ordered a Gingerbread Latte that only tasted like ginger without all the rest. Maybe that confused me.“

One thing a soul moving around in sweet and painful yearning never can be accused of is this kind of confusion. A soul waking up and missing something has its focus set while running onto the glowing horizon, with the right thoughts in mind and the right taste on those lips.

„Maybe, this winter we‘re just tired“, my witch giggles.
Too tired and confused for a soul to move, and yearn?
Once I am not in a hurry anymore, I have to light a candle to change that.

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…

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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