Story of the wheel turns oddly

Snooping wind circled around my head. I felt my head move from side to side. At one point I had a vision of my head toppling into the basket at the bottom of a guillotine. This vision did not scare me.

Time and strange things.

A harlequin with a key in its mouth, black cotton thread cross stitch eyes, painted red mouth, black wool hair parted down the centre knocked at my front door.
The hour was with the witch, the witch had just stirred the root of the blue flower into her cauldron.
I clutched a slice of lemon in my right hand.
As I turned the knob of the front door, I squeezed the lemon tightly. The juice of the lemon anointed my bare feet.
My hair draped in the style of lady Godiva.
There were golden threads attached to the middle of my back, head, arms and legs.
The door grew in size as it opened.
I gazed long into the harlequin, there was no sound but I could taste the witch’s brew.
It was happiness and nothing made any sense.

Story of the wheel turns oddly

Lisa  Jewell

Joined July 2007

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