The Shipping Witches

From Create Your Own Story

The ancient door of Lady Lavendale's Home for Girls creaked open slowly, the same door that two girls had entered only 9 years ago as babes. It let out a familiar shrill cry that was easily ignored as two hooded figures darted out into the cold frigid air. One clutched a basket in her hand and the other supporting a messenger bag hung around her slender shoulder. They whispered something under their breath to each other and burst out into hushed laughter as they walked down the frosted steps and toward the Town Square. They had followed the same dirt pathway everyday since they could first remember, wearing it thin with their moccasins. The air was sombre, damp with fallen rain and ridden with a compelling tension that neither of the young girls couldn't interpret or explain.

They passed by few but felt dozens of eyes watching them from drawn windows as they walked down the cobblestone road. They continued on though, gulping and falling silent and stopped only when they reached the willow tree where they would set up business for the day.



Who would you like to be?

Personal tools