First, Julia lit her wick from the black candle standing in the cauldron, her face contorted with determination.
"Maiden."
Next was Marie, squeezing a stray tear from her eye, placing a hand over her empty belly.
"Mother."
Then came my turn, heart full, I remembered the faces and names as the fire warmed my fingertips.
"Crone."
We stood our candles around the cauldron and joined hands, welcoming the spirits of our loved ones. Fumes swirled into our lungs, breath by breath a circle was formed, a funnel of energy whirling between us.
Sisters, forever.
About the Creator
Miss Riggie
Artist | Writer | Lover | Fighter
Born in Sydney, Australia. I write poetry when the mood strikes me, perhaps a few short stories and prose here and there.
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Mirror in the Sky
Every night at midnight, the purple Clouds came out to dance with the blushing sky. Twirling in clusters to the rhythm of the busy city streets, of party-goers and late-night commuters rushing home. They carried on with their performance despite their audience going about their nighttime activities, and there was little they could do to grab their attention. The program for tonight was one of their easier routines, one they had done a million times for each and every passing generation. Still, they carried on their good work, sharing their ancient art with the world.
By Miss Riggie3 years ago in Fiction
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