In the darkest part of my interior, where the trees are thickest, a witch lives in a stone hut. She has outgrown it. She can hardly fit into it. She has to lie down with her head at the door and her feet in the corners. She has no friends. Not even her cat and her dog are her friends. They’re her slaves and she feeds them just enough to keep them alive.
It will only take a tiny bit of kindness to turn the cat and dog against her. Freedom is coming. Yes, here it is. A brother and a sister are headed straight into my dark heart, bearing food.