‘The Witch’, they called her but she minded not, tending to her herbs and the animals and birds which nature’s highest intelligence brought to the garden of her single-roomed house knowing her abilities to hold and to heal…
It started slowly.
A black stain on the stone and the gentle glooping of mud or oil disturbed by rising vapours.
But by noon the single-roomed house had begun to rise through the air…
She peered from a window of the house, now tower, at the receding garden, far below, and smiled.
Unfurling her wings she hopped from the window…
4 thoughts on “A Harvest of Wyrms…”
Oh my, more than just a cunning woman.
LikeLiked by 1 person