Mote It Be: A Short Story

As the two dripping refuges began to warm up, Meliza offered the central altar as a bed to her, as it was the traditional place for the welcoming of new-comers, she told. Not only finding it odd, Audette also found it cold and hard. Her guide had passed her a drink of something she poured from a jug at the chapel’s decorative shrine, the liquid was introduced to her as Witch-tea. Once again, odd, but it had a soothing effect.

The smell of the corpse and strong wine filled Edmund’s nostrils with every breath he took. It nauseated him. He had sat through the vicious scolding of Galaezzo in the late hours, yet he could not live without getting the feel of that fat off his fingers. He hunted quietly for some harsh rosemary soap to use in the inky blackness the monastery chambers.

"Will that be all, Mother?", asked her daughter, hauling the last of the ground roots and herbs inside the dungeon rooms and setting hem on the floor near her mother's feet, Abigail smiled, nodding a little at the girl. "What's all this for anyway? You turned into a witch?",, Abigail laughed. "You wish, my darling. But no, it's for something rather special, I have to call upon something, and I've been told this-", she gestured to the candles, chalk and herbs in Mason jars around her, 'was the only way to do it.". Her daughter, smirked, looking around the room, "I would stay, but- witchcraft isn't really my thing.". Abigail shrugged, "Understood.". She one she shouldn't have bragged to Maxim earlier about her wonderful daughter, but how

We watched in fascination as this magical woman lit some gum leaves and began gently blowing, beckoning us forward, signalling we leave our shoes by the root. As the smoke snaked around us, Keira began singing in her native Wiradjuri. Waving it first across her own then our bodies, the heady, intoxicating scent of the ritual raised my flesh in skin tingling anticipatory goose bumps. Feeling the watchful gaze of others before me.

Witchcraft seemed to be no stranger to this whole ordeal. I take a few deep breaths and continue to trudge back to the carriage. I hope that the Ruler and witch are back as I wish to have my belongings, but it is possible they are still traveling. I see that the carriage is indeed there, not moving from it spot. So I infer that they have arrived so it’s safe to get my things. I let out a sigh of relief and get my small bags out and head to the mansion where- at the steps- I see the others gathering and talking among themselves- Owen being an exception, only talking with Alice a few times. As I get closer I hear Alex mumble something along the line of ‘Manners’ and ‘Peasants’ I try to make out what else he said but he spoke too softly. “Talking about me?” I say as I walked up and brush my arm against his, a bright and stupid smile sprawled across my face. He looks at me, not wearing the same big smile I haven’t seen him missing so far. He didn’t seem to understand what I was talking about, but it soon dawned on him. “Oh sorry, I'm just not used to it. That's all.” He said with a sickening sweet tone as he then quickly turns around, muttering a few curses. I giggle at this and make my way over to Owen.

Today was a very eventful day! Reverend Hale came to tell my husband and me that I had been accused of witchcraft. Not long after that Cheever arrived with a warrant for my arrest. I assumed it was Abigail who was my accuser...she is such an evil girl!. They searched the house and asked if I kept any poppet’s. I told them, “I never kept no poppet’s not since I was a girl.” They then found the doll Mary Warren gave to me earlier. They found it a little odd because apparently everything seems to be evidence of witchcraft! They came across a needle stuck in the poppet and were shocked as to what they were seeing. John called Mary Warren down and asked her about it. She said it was a gift to me that she made. Mary explained that she put the needle

It was early in the morning as Lillian and I got ready for our first day of our perplexing espacade to fulfill my grandfather's request. The artistic golden sun got up like a baby and began painting the eerie, dark and black sky into a bright blue one. The first task we started to do was go visit the cafe built under this aesthetic tower hotel. For both of us, I ordered a “Ful Medames” meal consisting the following: richly flavored beans accompanied by a colorful array of side consisting of smoky grilled flatbreads, creamy tahini sauce with a lemony kick, hard boiled eggs for sustenance, and refreshing chopped tomato and cucumber salads. Honestly, this meal was not so bad as I thought (if you’re wondering why, the most cultural food in this

The smell of fresh herbs filled the air around her as the sun shone down on her back, a sense of tranquility fell upon her in the lush, backyard garden. A soft tune could be heard from inside the house where the radio played. Tante Lou hummed along to the music while she snipped off sprigs of parsley to use in the meal she is preparing for her nephew, Grant, and his guest. Today was a special day. It’s the first time Tante Lou is meeting her nephew’s girlfriend, Vivian, and she wants to make a wonderful dinner for them all to enjoy while getting to know each other.

On a damp and slightly foggy evening on the coast of South Hampton, midsouth in England, a man the name of Andrew Jackson Walks onto the port of where a major role in his life is about to be fulfilled. Andrew had always seen things in his dreams but this was surreal to him. He had previously bought a ticket onto a so-called “unsinkable ship” and he was eager to see why his dream had lead him here. His dreams were always quite colorful and imaginative, but they always seemed so farfetched yet surreal. A place that he could almost imagine he was standing in the very place he was now, yet this time it only seemed like a dream, it’s a dream he has had for a long time. Going out to sea, eating divine food prepared by talented chefs, and maybe meeting a new friend or two. He thought of all this just standing there, at this marvelous

Eventually, finished were the movies, and the group decided to take a stroll about the mall, where Nicole informed her friends that she needed to travel towards the washroom. Little did they apprehend, that this would signify the last moment she would be seen. For the simplistic understanding, that she had been kidnaped that evening. For this purpose, the inhabitants of the town began searching day by day, however, they could not locate her anywhere. As a result, weeks went by and eventually a couple of lads over by the lake snaked up an ID of the teenager. In view of this, it denoted the first lead the police had discovered and remained ample for the jealous boyfriend of Nicole to perform an anonymous call to the police, framing Donte to

“A spell.”  Milleson smirked, “I bet you can hardly make breakfast.”  All of a sudden the man raised his staff and pointed it at the kitchen.  All of a sudden the dishes were cleaning

Once upon a time there was a wealthy yet wise little girl who lived with her parents, and they no longer had a taste for anything but sweet porridge lately. So the child went into the forest, and there an old, wicked woman met her. She knew of the old woman’s wickedness, who valued all of their family’s riches and her but knew she couldn’t get a chance to put her hand on it or have a child of her own. However, the little girl and her parents enjoyed the way the wicked old woman cooked the porridge. So the wicked old woman presented her with a little, tainted pot of porridge, which when she said, "Little pot, cook your sweet, but malevolent wonder,” and it would cook good, sweet millet porridge, and when she said, “Little pot, stop," it stopped

One sunny fall morning with no wind and the sound of the birds chirping and the blaring of the news my mom’s water broke. “Jade and Jake let's go.” Vroom” off we go to the hospital. I wonder will today be a good day or a bad day?

Once upon a time when there was no color in the world there was a family of moose. They were a normal family. All except the youngest daughter moose, Kwynci. “Why is everything so grey and dull?” She asked her father. A curious one she was. Her father answered with a simple “Thats the way it is, and will always be.” Unwillingly she accepted his answer and went on to softball practice. She passed the colorless stream, the colorless meadow, and then over the colorless hill when she approached an old porcupine who was struggling with carrying a glass box. Being the caring moose she was she decided to offer the porcupine help carrying the box, knowing that she had some time before practice. “Beware Moose, the pathway to my house is not one made

“Hello, Circe,” the voices yelled, “we ask of you to let us take shelter in your hall!” Bewildered by the sound of them, not having heard voice speak to me in what felt to me like an eternity, I swiftly maneuvered to the entranceway; there, I examined twenty-three mortals, one of which stood further back than the others and refused to join them. Rejuvenated, I let them in, hurriedly preparing a customary feast, with mighty thrones to sit upon, fine cheese, barely, amber honey, and Pramnian wine. However, before bringing the meal out, I turned toward the table to see the mortals talking and laughing with each other, sharing their thoughts and spending time with each other. Stealthily, I grabbed a potion and mixed it into the meal, in hopes that it would make them forget their homeland. I didn’t want them to leave. I didn’t want to be alone again. I didn’t want to give up this perfect opportunity to better my existence, whether or not they were only mortals.