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She was just a little odd, she talked to herself, constantly and consistently in her everday life. Now she smiled to herself as she uttered the words that she had memorised so well,repeating them over and over, on her way to her job, on the train home and in that sanctuary of sanctuaries, her bathroom.
Fast, fierce and furious, the warrior witch was going to work.
Words so powerful, words so strong, that they would lift the curse once and for all.
Many an incantation, a plea or a spell had been performed there and most had been successful.
But this time,she knew she must put on her imaginary cloak of warmness, and brave the icy winds in her circle
Send it back,from whence it came, no more would she suffer the pain and indignity of their wrongful venom. "Oh, it's all in your mind", they would say, "pull yourself together" if she dared but mentioned her thoughts and suspicions to even the most trusting, believing soul.
But she knew better, it had followed her fom birth,a curious array of circumstance and happenings that had culminated, in a face to face confrontation with the one.
She had tried, at that time, to send it back, but the circumstances were wrong and her power was not strong enough.
He had smirked as he left, he had allies the realms of magic and they,too would strengthen his intention, and from that moment, she knew that things would worsen for her.
The words,now flowed so freely from her tight pursed lips, learned like a baby learns a nursery ryhme and can still recall each syllable even when approaching death.
The objects were ready,too. Gathered over two years,their significance and importance to the ritual was perfect.
But there was just one thing missing and for that she needed to travel a fair way. She had been there before, but this time could find no excuse to tell her husband where she was bound for.
Racking the deepest part of her brain,to find a way she came to a plan. She would suggest a visit to the town when they next went away in their van.
It wouldn't be too long now, the days were lengthening and she didn't work for so many hours now and it was a pretty old place, full of the history of the land that they both love to see and read of.
And water, he loved the water, so she could leave him to gaze while she set about her mission.
No graveyard dirt for her, the pomp and importance of the family concerned had led to them being entombed in the church, sealed against the outside world but still, from those dark recesses, of airlessness, blackness and stillness, able to reach her.
She had been there once before, felt the shame, the anger, the persecution and had cried a fountain of tears.
This time, she hoped that she could be stronger and face her emotions to gather what she needed.
Alone, she tentatively pushed open the heavy wooden door. The atmosphere threatened to overwhelm her once more, but she gathered her composure and pulled from her pocket her treasured athame and an empty lip gloss pot.
A scraping from each was all she needed,that grey,grey stone,that like a tape recorder, had held the curse within, would soon be hers to do with, as she must.
The CCTV cameras had gone unoticed to her, and just as she had finished her task, the verger,accompanied by a fresh faced, young policeman, rushed in and caught her.
Hauled off to the local police station, her plea of temporary insanity, did not go down too well, and her spoil was taken for evidence. She was arrested and ordered to appear at the Magistrates court the following week, for defacing a place of worship.
What would she tell her husband. Quick thinkng was of the essence, so on their homecoming she told him that she had met an old friend from school there and she had invited her up for the day, for some childhood reminisence.
He was working that day, so she booked her train ticket and set off with a heavy heart and great trepidation.
Ten o'clock found her sitting in the dock, her eyes downcast, but knowing they would have to meet those of the judge.And at that moment, a look between them of pure and utter recognition and she knew it would be alright. Kind eyes, believing eyes, eyes from a long past time. A man of God, who had had his doubts.
He couldn't let her off without a fine, but that was a small price to pay compared to the wonderful gift he gave her as she left the courtroom, her jar of dust.
"I think you need this more than the rubbish bin" he whispered softly, "take it and do what I know you must, and I am so very sorry, that nobody believed you the first time around".
Many years later,she told her grandchildren about it, but no one believed her,of course.Why should they?
Copyright Penny Little 2007
Fast, fierce and furious, the warrior witch was going to work.
Words so powerful, words so strong, that they would lift the curse once and for all.
Many an incantation, a plea or a spell had been performed there and most had been successful.
But this time,she knew she must put on her imaginary cloak of warmness, and brave the icy winds in her circle
Send it back,from whence it came, no more would she suffer the pain and indignity of their wrongful venom. "Oh, it's all in your mind", they would say, "pull yourself together" if she dared but mentioned her thoughts and suspicions to even the most trusting, believing soul.
But she knew better, it had followed her fom birth,a curious array of circumstance and happenings that had culminated, in a face to face confrontation with the one.
She had tried, at that time, to send it back, but the circumstances were wrong and her power was not strong enough.
He had smirked as he left, he had allies the realms of magic and they,too would strengthen his intention, and from that moment, she knew that things would worsen for her.
The words,now flowed so freely from her tight pursed lips, learned like a baby learns a nursery ryhme and can still recall each syllable even when approaching death.
The objects were ready,too. Gathered over two years,their significance and importance to the ritual was perfect.
But there was just one thing missing and for that she needed to travel a fair way. She had been there before, but this time could find no excuse to tell her husband where she was bound for.
Racking the deepest part of her brain,to find a way she came to a plan. She would suggest a visit to the town when they next went away in their van.
It wouldn't be too long now, the days were lengthening and she didn't work for so many hours now and it was a pretty old place, full of the history of the land that they both love to see and read of.
And water, he loved the water, so she could leave him to gaze while she set about her mission.
No graveyard dirt for her, the pomp and importance of the family concerned had led to them being entombed in the church, sealed against the outside world but still, from those dark recesses, of airlessness, blackness and stillness, able to reach her.
She had been there once before, felt the shame, the anger, the persecution and had cried a fountain of tears.
This time, she hoped that she could be stronger and face her emotions to gather what she needed.
Alone, she tentatively pushed open the heavy wooden door. The atmosphere threatened to overwhelm her once more, but she gathered her composure and pulled from her pocket her treasured athame and an empty lip gloss pot.
A scraping from each was all she needed,that grey,grey stone,that like a tape recorder, had held the curse within, would soon be hers to do with, as she must.
The CCTV cameras had gone unoticed to her, and just as she had finished her task, the verger,accompanied by a fresh faced, young policeman, rushed in and caught her.
Hauled off to the local police station, her plea of temporary insanity, did not go down too well, and her spoil was taken for evidence. She was arrested and ordered to appear at the Magistrates court the following week, for defacing a place of worship.
What would she tell her husband. Quick thinkng was of the essence, so on their homecoming she told him that she had met an old friend from school there and she had invited her up for the day, for some childhood reminisence.
He was working that day, so she booked her train ticket and set off with a heavy heart and great trepidation.
Ten o'clock found her sitting in the dock, her eyes downcast, but knowing they would have to meet those of the judge.And at that moment, a look between them of pure and utter recognition and she knew it would be alright. Kind eyes, believing eyes, eyes from a long past time. A man of God, who had had his doubts.
He couldn't let her off without a fine, but that was a small price to pay compared to the wonderful gift he gave her as she left the courtroom, her jar of dust.
"I think you need this more than the rubbish bin" he whispered softly, "take it and do what I know you must, and I am so very sorry, that nobody believed you the first time around".
Many years later,she told her grandchildren about it, but no one believed her,of course.Why should they?
Copyright Penny Little 2007
2 comments:
Fabulous piece, Penny.
Thanks for visiting 70 Plus and Still Kicking ...
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