Tonight‘s tale is about a precious thing.
Precious enough to have the witch, the quiet girl, the weird one gather all her courage and say:
„We were too good for this world!“
Too good to exist within it?
Where to find the path to walk, the place to rest?
Where, if together you are nothing but the dream of how the world could be?
Of how good life could feel?
If together you‘re not part of the black and white that draws the world, but sparkle?
A sparkle that embraces skin, heals its scars and shines?
If together you find your colours?
„We have to fight for it“, the witch tells the wizard, who only smiles with eyes so sad.
„Purple suits you“, is what he then says.
This precious thing had not a name.
It had no place.
It had no purpose in this world.
There was no plan.
There never was a future.
There was nothing real to gain, but a heart to lose.
A heart the witch held ready at the side of the road the wizard took.
A heart to withstand the sadness in his eyes.
To withstand the things his eyes had seen, the horrors he encountered.
A heart equipped with needles, and the promise to make flowers grow.
„Pick it up“, the witch invites the wizard with the saddest eyes.
Pick it up.
Sparkle in purple.
Be precious.
Dream!
Make love that extends the borders of this world.
Because you are the wizard and I am the witch.
Mistress witch writes 