Some truths belong into candle light with a cup of tea, boiling hot and with sugar.
Yes, witches need their sugar.
And we’re not sorry.
“When do you accept that you don’t always know the consequences of things”, my witch giggles, and as I scoff offended, the light dances and flickers.
Of course I am aware of the consequences of things!
That is one grown up way of thinking I would actually give myself credit for.
“Sometimes, I think of the consequences so much that I want any things to stop, in worry what they’d lead to.”
My witch passionately shakes her head and her curly hair flies everywhere.
“But how often are you right?”, Layla asks.
She was right in teasing me that so often I was wrong.
“I don’t know the rules of this”, had she heard me exclaim quite a few times already, in the rain out on a field, where these truths belong.
When endings are not really endings, although they hurt as if they were.
When biggest fears become true, and somehow life actually goes on.
When someone returned on the wrong site of the horizon.
Whenever I was surprised by something.
“I don’t always know the rules by which things work”, I admit to my witch over a Vanilla Latte, because there also are truths that belong into a crowded train station, with lights and people flying by. “Every day can be as surprising and also as painful as possible.”
And important for survival is still to keep your faith and trust intact, as if that was so easy.
“I have been surprised by wonderful things”, I have to admit. “And sometimes, those I never thought of caught me off guard.”
“Let’s hope for the best with everyday”, my witch giggles into my ear.
Unloved tale
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Just a haunted girl scaring her friends – Writing update!
Intrigued. And quite as bit terrified.Those were the exact same words I got as feedback from my friends whom I’d recently handed the first pages of the witching novel to. Seems like I’ve accomplished my task, right? I’m the haunted girl scaring all her friends!No, but really. It felt as if I was understood through…
Tale about the softest secret
This tale is about a girl I once knew. This girl could not go anywhere without her lovely white shoes. Made of cotton, their rim did not reach her ankles, giving away how thin they were. Their soles were so slim, she felt the earth with every step. Those shoes she needed so dearly were…
Mistress witch writes 