Lightlessness. Each man’s hands clutch at spears and amulets. My own fill with hacksilver, its small grey fragments like slithers of a fallen moon – Laura Webb – Coda, from An […]
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The Dream in the Witch House
Mazurewicz came home at six o’clock and said people at the mill were whispering that the Walpurgis-revels would be held in the dark ravine beyond Meadow Hill where the old white […]
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