Dla mojego stada Na brzegu rzeki, przez którą zamierzała się z wilkiem przeprawić, Trzecia Wróżka spotkała skorpiona. - O, zobacz, pajęczak – ucieszyła się. Wilk spojrzał na nią dziwnie. - Wydawało mi się, że nie lubisz tego gatunku zwierząt? – mruknął. - Ja? Ja lubię wszystkie zwierzątka. Zobacz, jaki ma śliczny błyszczący pancerzyk. Wilk łypnął na skorpiona podejrzliwie. Pajęczak przydreptał bliżej. Wilk cofnął się odruchowo. - Ma paskudny kolec jadowy – zauważył. - E tam, jaki tam kolec jadowy, zupełnie malutki. Poza tym wszystkie skorpiony mają kolce jadowe, ale nie wszystkie są śmiertelnie jadowite, słyszałeś o tym? Ukąszenie niektórych boli jak ugryzienie komara. - Ten tutaj wygląda mi na takiego, co może zabić wołu – odparł wilk. - No ale zobacz, jakie ma piękne szczypce, takie duże… - Słuchaj, przestań – warknął wilk. – Jeszcze chwila, a nazwiesz go Żeluś, zabierzesz do domu i będzie spał na twojej poduszce, a wtedy ostrzegam, że ja się wyprowadzę. - Co, zazdrosny je
for Sam, who brought them back There was a forest, and in that forest there was a lake, and on that lake there was an island, and on that island there was a mountain, and on the top of the mountain there was a tower. In the topmost chamber of the tower there was a mirror and a chest. And a wolf, curled around himself, with a bushy tail covering his nose. The Third Fairy stood in the doorway, panting. She hated the stairs. She particularly hated the stairs if before climbing them she had to run across the forest with no shoes on, then swim across the lake and climb the mountain, all in the bloody velvet dress. The wolf raised his head and barred his teeth. His yellow eyes sparkled menace. - Password! - he barked. - Fuck you! - barked back The Third Fairy. She crossed the room and yanked at the lid of the chest. It didn’t move. She kicked it and then started to jump on one leg, swearing. The wolf looked at her with disgust. - Where is the key? - she hissed through
The 21st century brought with it the abolition of witches. The karmic debt in the previous centuries was usually dealt with by fire. You indebted yourself to the witch, then you waited some time and burned her just before you had to pay. Of course, it did not really work that way, because the debt accumulated somewhere and hit someone, but most people thought it was this easy. Do not pay, and then, when your time is up, gang up together, tie her up, douse in tar and set on f ire. In the 21st century, with its safety measurements and flammable materials out of reach, and most of the people scared to death to use them, the witches started to learn, finally, about the other side of the karmic debt. The execution. The decision whether to execute or not. The power it entailed. All those little ways in which the life of those who wronged them could be turned into misery. The fireball they usually were turned into, now they held in their hands. To throw, or not to throw. There were mome
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