Those sounds that witches make are known to tear this world apart. Their voices cook the blood. Their little noises make skin shudder and freeze while burning.You want some more? Just touch the scar behind her ear, or the mark there on her thigh.A witch might even purr just like her cat, just give itContinue reading “How witches laugh”
Tag Archives: personal
Dystopia in February
„Living as a human being is over.“Thoughts arrive before the feeling.They happen and don‘t feel so bad at first, but are the first step of drowning in despair.I understood that just now, that I can think pain before it really arrives. „You say you‘re dead inside“, my witch says while skeptically eyeing the piece ofContinue reading “Dystopia in February”
Why witches drown
Witches drown because witches cannot drown. Witches are because witches are not.Witches are not real although, or maybe even because witchcraft does not work. Witches drown because someone caught a daydream Daddy did not approve of and someone has to die in the flames after once having burned in passion. Witches drown because the secretContinue reading “Why witches drown”
“I envy the dead.”
„I envy the dead“, I say to my witch as we open up another bottle of wine. „I think they are better off.“ My witch does not respond. „And you know, ever since I have also lost someone in this pandemic, I feel like I am entitled to say so.“ Layla just nods, while fightingContinue reading ““I envy the dead.””
When I write about witches
Whenever I write about witchesthere are thoughtsin my headlooking for a placeand cutting cross my mind. When I write about witches,I am missing things.Early mornings,a cup of coffeeand something to do. When I write about witchesI am missing people.Steps I recognize,laughter I know,and most importantly: you. Whenever I write about witches,my inside has lostwhatever onceContinue reading “When I write about witches”
Tale from another world
Tonight, my witch and I would like to tell a tale that could once have taken place in this world, but certainly could not anymore. It is full of choices to make, of coffee places late at night, and people to meet. It all started with nights that a young woman spent with books aloneContinue reading “Tale from another world”
A shrine or a graveyard?
„I‘m a witch, so I have options“, I say while eating the cake that I have mad just for myself. „I can either build up a shrine for my old life and things which I once believed in, or else I burn everything and accept that this part of me has died.“„Those are the onlyContinue reading “A shrine or a graveyard?”
Some heartbreaking reasons for witchcraft
A while ago, I wondered why people ever did witchcraft, or came to lonely and weird people to do it for them. If something requires the blood of a white dove, flesh of an executed murderer and other ingredients you will most likely get caught while collecting, why even bother? But now that I amContinue reading “Some heartbreaking reasons for witchcraft”
Just some dystopian spiraling thoughts
„You will not give up, yet“, a friend of mine tells me whenever I am really mad at the universe. „You have too much fighting energy left.“ And I tell him about being ready to dig my own grave for one last kiss. „Okay, I will not give up on you, little one“, he correctsContinue reading “Just some dystopian spiraling thoughts”
There is something inside that will not die
The unexpected sunshine made snow a little bit more unlikely and I just hated my kitchen table more than ever before. I drank some tea, continued typing messages into a chat window that were supposed to seem friendly and personal while also something like professional, but only came off as really bad jokes. „4 months“,Continue reading “There is something inside that will not die”
Walking through Dystopia
This one is about me and my witch walking through Dystopia. Or walking away from it? One of those odd things that I started during the first lockdown and have not given up yet are daily walks for 2-3 hours. They led out of the city and into forests and fields, between haunted houses, cowsContinue reading “Walking through Dystopia”
The days my witch had lived for
„Those were the days“, my witch said, standing by the window and watching the first snow painting itself into the early sunset.„When we were woken up by the sunrise, always next to each other. When all we had to worry about was making love before his strange visitors would arrive.“ Layla smiled, and the wayContinue reading “The days my witch had lived for”
Do you remember the last time?
Now that nothingness is taking over again, and at least where Layla and I live we are all sworn into facing the hardest months of the pandemic just now, I wonder how many last times of things I remember. Let‘s start with this one:The last time my friends forced me to sing karaoke with them.Continue reading “Do you remember the last time?”
Witches set everything on fire
„Being happy, really passionate even, without setting everything on fire – that would be great!“, I say to my witch as we cook a vanilla flavored dessert at midnight. My witch giggled. „You can‘t have everything.“And she eyed me skeptically, as I poured the powder into the milk.I was in a good mood. So goodContinue reading “Witches set everything on fire”
The perfect year for witching
„I used to have those yellow lights in my windows, too“, I say to my witch as we take a walk late at night and find our haunted houses on the way decorated with beautiful Christmas lights. „But of course I hate these things from now on.“„Sure.“ I had to admit that this December nightContinue reading “The perfect year for witching”
Dystopia in December
Earlier this year, I had wondered what it must have been like to live in one of those places where the first wave of the pandemic hit really hard. Although even then it had not been that far away, at least not personally, I had thought that it might be different to have this disasterContinue reading “Dystopia in December”
I want to say something
Can I say something?I want to say something.Please, let me say something. Let me say something in a voice that you like.With a nice voice.With a voice to be heard,without sounding hard. Listen to my voice as a voice that you like.Listen to my voice that you likewhile I say that I have to sayContinue reading “I want to say something”
Caught in candy
„Something has been lost“, I say to my witch. „Something that has been just as essential as food and rest, and I‘m still expected to function.„Just stop functioning“, Layla says and eats her violet cloud. I am certain that I already have. I have been through months of screaming at night on a field, andContinue reading “Caught in candy”
Hope is furious
„It‘s time to wear black and be sad.“My witch and I perfectly agreed with 13 year old me. Being 25 years old in 2020 felt surprisingly similar. Whatever would make me happy, or a little lesser sad, was not available anymore. „It‘s constant darkness, and I‘m still running around looking for a light that isContinue reading “Hope is furious”
See me as a witch
What makes a person, Layla? Is it two arms and legs,and eyes to see,and a voice to speak with,and blood to spill? Maybe, he saw me as a person. He did not seethat all I ever did was vibratingon that very last frequencythat was left by better days. He saw me as one,but I thinkContinue reading “See me as a witch”
Drowning is what witches do
We are drowning again.Maybe, this is just what witches do. It‘s 9 AM and I have to get up, while my witch is asleep, curled up in a short night dress on my arm chair by the window. Lucky witch. And suddenly, it‘s far into the afternoon, and I wonder how time can fly byContinue reading “Drowning is what witches do”
Why I summoned my witch
„Every family has an odd one“, my witch said as I posed in front of the mirror while wearing my new mask that matched the brand new underwear that I had bought. „My hair had always been the brightest and the curliest.“ In our very first wine nights, we had already discussed where Layla hadContinue reading “Why I summoned my witch”
Cinnamon and memories at night
„That was sweet“, my witch said as we were looking at old photographs of me having curly hair and being in love with Mr. Rainbow, „But seriously, it had to go wrong.“Old! I did not want them to be old! I had wanted to look like Tori Amos in 1996 and therefor had slept withContinue reading “Cinnamon and memories at night”
Thoughts on writing historical fiction
Why are there even people still alive in this world? No, that is not my only thought on writing historical fiction, but it were thoughts like that which in the end led to starting this project. For a very long time, I had mostly been interested in writing science fiction. I dreamed of mega citiesContinue reading “Thoughts on writing historical fiction”
Tale about unspoken things
Sometimes, I want to throw it all at him and see it mirror in his eyes. How I am done living in this world. How I will not ever trust a single thing to not leave me from one moment to the other. How I keep myself busy to not have the time to findContinue reading “Tale about unspoken things”
A lucky knot in this weird universe
I am going to collect everything that is not broken yet, and put all the lucky knots of this weird universe in one place, for once. „Are you already done with everything that‘s broken?“, Layla is mocking me. No, I am not. How could I. Things that break lay scattered into thousands of shards andContinue reading “A lucky knot in this weird universe”
Demons for dating
Witches fall in love with tragedies, and being loved by a witch has an awful lot to do with empty bottles and things happening only in thoughts and dreams.But witches are supposed to have options, right? These beings that bend the borders of reality have to have some options out of this world and forContinue reading “Demons for dating”
Isolation call
Today, I called different people, because I really just needed to call someone and hear another person‘s voice and feel a little less alone. I called my grandmother, because her birthday was last sunday and she did not pick up the phone by then (can old people please stop doing this while a virus isContinue reading “Isolation call”
Why I write about witches
I have already written about how I summoned Layla, the witch living in my kitchen during the pandemic, with chocolate and wine, and sometimes with ice cream, and how we had the dark kind of fun, and were missing our boys, always good for a tale about surviving Dystopia. But I think, this might beContinue reading “Why I write about witches”
Tale about ice cream and wine
There is a path that I need to take, from time to time.Maybe, because once I have been walking on it through the most passionate rain in early spring.Or maybe, because I needed to walk down that particular path to buy ice cream and wine for one of the best nights of my life.Or, becauseContinue reading “Tale about ice cream and wine”
Mistress witch writes 