All the good folks of Monte Cleve gathered around the pyre screaming, “Burn the witch!” The old woman had cursed a farmer’s cattle. An entire herd lost to her witchery. Everyone agreed she deserved to burn for her consortion with the devil.
The Witchfinder General tried, both in her cell and in his bed, to get the woman to confess. She would not. As the flames grew hotter, her shrill wailing grew louder. He wrapped his arms around his two young sons and smiled down at them.
Already, he saw the fire of righteousness blazing in their eyes.
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©2010 Sean Michael Smith
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Tags: Sean Michael Smith
February 8th, 2010 at 6:31 pm
A haunting tiny tale!