Holding my grief like a slow-dying hatchling, I sought out the wisdom of the pipe-smoking hag. My plans were to prostrate myself at her feet..
These are the days of the late-winter ache, and I’ve learned to hear the haunted call of those never-born-always-dead hags who are wiser than I..
She came to my door fire-eyed this morning, retching pomegranate juice and demanding to know where my underworld words come from. I told her I..
Don’t follow me; not tonight. That holly-haired hag of wintertide is lurking ‘round the edges of these forbidden lands, and only shecan properly eulogize the..
The ‘Year of the Witch’ is happening. We’ve seen tarot designs on the catwalk, everyone wants to be a witchy maker of oils and salves,..
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