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Once upon a time, there was a Witch. She was neither good nor bad, she simply was; much to Glinda and Elpheba's disappointment, for in their world (a strange place that our witch was never able to get enthused about) witches simply had to have labels.
She realised that labels were very tricky things, and whilst many in the world were content to wear them around their neck like so much hideous 'bling' (a term that our Witch cannot quite manage to hear, much less say, without making derisive noises or rolling her eyes), they were not really what motivated her or spoke to her. Upon realising this, she saw that she was trying to be a duck in the pond (and whilst our Witch will waddle on occasion when the weather plays merry buggers with her knee, she neither quacks like a duck nor does she weigh the same as one) and knew that this would not do at all. She was a different bird altogether. Now, our Witch (not liking labels in the first place) would not begin to imagine herself as a swan in the pond... but she could identify herself with the great herons that are more at home traversing the mists of creation in a semi-solitary state, silently and as the winds carry them.
So, once more, in the very early beginnings of this passing year, the Witch took up the crane bag. Every now and again, she shakes it up for reshuffling, reaches in and meditates upon what she finds... and she has not once looked back to see what was happening in the duck pond without her.
Notes from the Underground
Pagan Blog Project * Weatherwax Wednesday
Six Sentence Sunday * Writing News
The Giovanni Chronicles
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My Reference Books:
Domina Noctis: Imps of Ink
My Favorite Reads:
666 West End Avenue