… on you… watch out.
A witch rarely makes superfluous movements.
Every twitch, every touch, every nuanced side-glance of a shifty eye – they all move a witch toward their prescribed destination.
Sometimes it is a place, but not always.
Sometimes it’s a state of mind, but not usually.
Often it’s simply a nod in the direction of survival – witches being in just as dire a strait as anyone these days.
When a witch turns their back to you, it is intentional. It is intended and designed to unnerve, disarm, and transfix. All tricks of a witch’s trade.
It is a determination to leave a chill in your heart.
Play this song – an incantation without words – as if such a thing could exist, as if words were nothing and music could make you feel something without meaning.
Are you a good witch or a bad witch? Maybe you are not quite ready to assume the mantle just yet.
My mantle is heavy, black velvet and purple lining, but it propels me into the night in ways you will never understand, gripping madly to a rough piece of wood like a talisman or hatchet or broom.
I don’t think you know how many witches populate the world ~ which world? ~ and who among us might they count as brethren? A declaration of doubt turned into a question, or two. There, now you’re learning the ways.
Never turn your back on a witch. Back away if you must, or wait it out – usually it’s better to wait it out. Witches appreciate those who appreciate patience. Waiting is a dark art. Patience is often disguised as a virtue.
You only think the witch hasn’t seen you.
And you only think the watch hasn’t seen you because the witch wants you to think that.
Already behind them, and they’re already gone.
Rest tonight, dear reader, for tomorrow we fly…
