Anecdotes of the Witch

Crackling chime of warm fire, of a campfire, emanated warm color of a quiet warm flame… quiet it was… as there were no rushing breezes to blow it out nor to make it waltzing with the airflow to and fro – only what it did was to drop the temperature. Spread evenly, lack of fairness, all was the same in this darkness… that when the Sun was excessively enough of shining over the green of this meadow, now when those morose skies were seemingly to depend more to this azureish white shine of a waning gibbous Moon and its countless chatoyant Stars, side by side hanging high to fade away the gloom of the night.