The Song Of the Witch

[Robert Crisman]

He spun into darkness, the miasma lodged in his nose and his throat.
This thing--the essence of centuries of killers and rapists and thieves.
He felt it seep through him, whinnying in triumph as slowly he drowned in its stench.
His heart ticked to nothing...
And then...he heard the rasp of a song, carried immeasurable distance.
The song sung by the witch who'd blessed him the moment he'd died...

[Angela]

I wonder if she sings words, or just syllables.  The notion of being blessed at the moment of death is like some kind of insurance to someone from my background.  But by a witch?  Somehow it is just perfect.

[Jamie Hogan]

Every few pieces you make a word choice that just drops my jaw. In this piece, it was "whinnying." Where did that come from? It's so unusual, but it's perfect.

[Stephen Torelli]

And now his soul is protected. I think most witches are cool.