Stream of Consciousness Saturday a penny for a posy

weeping-Karen_Nadine on Pixabay

“Penny for a posy, penny for a posy mum? Penny for a posy.” The little waif danced about the fountain square hawking her wares. A small tattered basket filled with flowers picked from the roadsides. They were gathered into tattered little bundles with equally tattered and dirty bits of string or rag. Star knew she should keep walking, she had to get back to the inn before she was missed. But the dark circles of the child’s eyes beckoned her, she placed a few coins in the girl’s hand and selected a flower from the basket. Continue reading “Stream of Consciousness Saturday a penny for a posy”

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The Strain of Dark Magic

the-witch-RondellMelling on pixabay
art by rondell melling on pixabay

Melantha ground the herbs in her mortar, gently circling the pestle round and round, softly chanting. She added the herbs to boiling rainwater and when the full moon rose, set the potion to strain.

Why? Melantha wondered as she carried her cauldron into the town square. Why was she doing this? The townspeople hated and feared her for the strain of dark magic within her. Why save them? Because she was the only one who could. “As one can, one must,” she repeated her mantra quietly. She left the cauldron in the square and spirited away on noiseless feet.

Watching from the shadows, Melantha smiled to herself and the town folk gathered around the cauldron. There’s not much pride left to a drowning man, nor to a dying town. A young woman was the first to scoop of the deep green liquid and take a cautious sip, feeling no harm, she spooned the potion into her children. Melantha returned to her shack as silently as she had come, the strain of her solitude eased a bit by her own act of compassion.

For Stream of Consciousness Saturday on lindaghill.com

Til next time ~Peace ~JPP

The Forest Path

CCC 4.11.19

The Forest Path

Lillith pushed her little cart down the stone path. It could hardly even be called that now, the old stones were broken and cumbled, it was little more than a water run off through the darkest part of the forest. Nobody used it these days. Nobody but Lillith. She reached down to touch the boy’s forehead, still hot. He had been asleep far too long now. The fever had come on so quickly that it frightened her. Continue reading “The Forest Path”