Post by aislinstorm on Jun 6, 2008 1:46:07 GMT -5
Last night I was inspired by all of the people here on the Witches Community. I decided that since I am a writer, I would write about something I know. My charachter will learn as I learn. I wanted all of you to be the first to read it. Please leave comments so I can know what you think of this first little bit.
I watched closely as the old woman next to me soaked her bruised feet in the cold water of the babbling river.
“Shall I teach you?” The old woman said in a horse voice.
“Teach me what?” I said watching her. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the old woman’s feet. They were large for a woman with boils, bruises, and sores across them.
“Are your shoes too tight?” I asked pointing to the old woman’s feet.
“I wear no shoes. No thorn would puncture my feet. Shall I teach you?” I stared at her wondering what she meant. All I thought of were the injuries of time on her feet. The water radiated a blue glow. “You see you can do it like than any of them can.” I didn’t know what she meant. The old woman pulled her feet from the cool blue water, but they were no longer bruised. There wasn’t a sore on them. I stared at her confused. She only smiled at me in a motherly way. A loud beeping sound filled my ears from the thick forest. “Time to go child.”
I awoke staring at my alarm clock. I hit the button to stop the sound. Slowly I lifted my head, 3 X 5 cards stuck to the side of my face. I had fallen asleep at the computer again.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed seeing that my thesis introduction wasn’t quite finished yet. “How am I ever to get through all of this if I can’t even stay awake?” I have spent the last year studying the differences between ancient and modern witchcraft. It is all just gobbledy gook to me, but I have to finish my thesis if I am going to get my degree in History. I pulled one of the cards from my cheek…it was some notes from a young woman I interviewed last week. She was a wonderful woman. Raised as a Catholic, she chose the Wiccan path because she was comfortable with it. She had never felt at home even as a child in the church. She knew there was something more she just had to find it.
I looked up at the picture she had given me. It is of the three aspects of the Wiccan Goddess, the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The Crone figure looked a lot like the woman in her dream. “Now I know where the old woman came from. I’m working way too late on all of this. At least now I know what to call her if she ever returns.” I said to myself pulling the other card from my forehead. A loud bang echoed from my dorm room door.
“Erica! Erica come on. We are late for class.”
“Rhonda!” I exclaimed looking at the clock. “nuts…I’m coming.” I grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door.
I watched closely as the old woman next to me soaked her bruised feet in the cold water of the babbling river.
“Shall I teach you?” The old woman said in a horse voice.
“Teach me what?” I said watching her. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the old woman’s feet. They were large for a woman with boils, bruises, and sores across them.
“Are your shoes too tight?” I asked pointing to the old woman’s feet.
“I wear no shoes. No thorn would puncture my feet. Shall I teach you?” I stared at her wondering what she meant. All I thought of were the injuries of time on her feet. The water radiated a blue glow. “You see you can do it like than any of them can.” I didn’t know what she meant. The old woman pulled her feet from the cool blue water, but they were no longer bruised. There wasn’t a sore on them. I stared at her confused. She only smiled at me in a motherly way. A loud beeping sound filled my ears from the thick forest. “Time to go child.”
I awoke staring at my alarm clock. I hit the button to stop the sound. Slowly I lifted my head, 3 X 5 cards stuck to the side of my face. I had fallen asleep at the computer again.
“Oh no!” I exclaimed seeing that my thesis introduction wasn’t quite finished yet. “How am I ever to get through all of this if I can’t even stay awake?” I have spent the last year studying the differences between ancient and modern witchcraft. It is all just gobbledy gook to me, but I have to finish my thesis if I am going to get my degree in History. I pulled one of the cards from my cheek…it was some notes from a young woman I interviewed last week. She was a wonderful woman. Raised as a Catholic, she chose the Wiccan path because she was comfortable with it. She had never felt at home even as a child in the church. She knew there was something more she just had to find it.
I looked up at the picture she had given me. It is of the three aspects of the Wiccan Goddess, the Maiden, the Mother, and the Crone. The Crone figure looked a lot like the woman in her dream. “Now I know where the old woman came from. I’m working way too late on all of this. At least now I know what to call her if she ever returns.” I said to myself pulling the other card from my forehead. A loud bang echoed from my dorm room door.
“Erica! Erica come on. We are late for class.”
“Rhonda!” I exclaimed looking at the clock. “nuts…I’m coming.” I grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door.