You’re sure to meet a cackling hag who sits on her highest ribs, dangling her legs and skipping stones in her blood. She’s a trickster,..
Ah, yes. I remember now. This righteous May moon is swelling between my ribs as it always does, lifting these aging breasts a bit higher..
Walk with me, sinner. My cauldron is too heavy to lift, and my athame is dirty and dull from overuse. These ritual robes of mine..
Join me, lover. I’m weaving stick-stars out of willow branches and drinking the thickest nog I could brew in my feeble cauldron. Tonight, the full..
For all of my Witch’s know-how, I never saw it coming. Her million-beamed, white-as-milk but sharp-as-tungsten-needles fem-force of holy destruction pierced my butter-soft skin from..