A Church, its Cemetery, its Flock ...

Dad used to take me, along with mom and my sis, to a Church in town every Sunday. He was brought up as a devout christian and wished the same for me. Once I reached adulthood, or was rather old enough to take a communion, he insisted that I attend a course in the same church to prepare myself for the communion. I attended this and received in whatever worthiness was expected the communion for my first time. He thereafter set me free to choose to attend or find faith in my own way as I saw fit and no longer bid me to accompany him, though he always wanted me by his side when he went to Church.

At the time of his passing, I attended the same Church. My paternal grandfather, among other late members of my family are buried in its cemetery. My opinion that this Church is broken, perhaps even beyond repair, is from previous conversations with Dad and specifically what I observed at this very occasion.

Parable of the Three Witches

A tale, from our world, bequeathed and shrouded from deluding magic, which though banned is practiced without knowledge and darkness looms over as people struggle to survive.

They say it takes three witches to form a coven; only then can more be coerced to join. Yet, three witches can bring darkness to coven, country and all;

It is not craft nor art nor wicca, but mere humanly greed, peasantly ignorance, pained dividing, darkened minds, embittered souls, joined yet shattered whose pale art impales hearts --- that all must watch out for. It is the broth that they kindle that ends up in swindle, and leaves all future dwindle.