Inne Bajki

I am not A nice company charming, witty, Smiling and pretty I am dirt, rags and bones. I am madness, barring her teeth in the dark room. I am a wise woman. I paid for wisdom with my own blood

 - Burn the witch! Burn the witch! - yelled the crowd outside. The wolf looked at the Fairy with barely hidden fear in his eyes. - Are you going to do anything about it soon? - he asked. - They have torches. Lit torches. - Burn the witch! Burn the witch! - yelled the voices. They seemed to be mostly female, and rather young. The Fairy, lying on her favourite chaisee-longue, slowly turned the page of the book she read. - Did you know that chimpanzees can learn to swear, if you teach them sign language? - Oh for fuck's sake! They are going to burn us alive! Do something! - ... And if you give children paper and crayons, they will draw just for the fun of it, but if you offer them a prize, they will engage in the activity for half the time and produce worse pictures... - DO SOMETHING! The Fairy rolled her eyes. The little clock on the mantelpiece started to chime midnight. There was a sudden silence. The wolf put his paws on the windowsill and looked outside. Then he turned to the...

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...

Find a floor, preferably with a sky view, lay down on it flat on your back with your knees bent. Make sure your back sinks into the mat. Breathe. Stay there for as much as needed. An hour. A day. Three months. Two years. The hardest is to start.  But if you repeat the procedure diligently, the heart should mend and be usable again.

- Did you know that lip prints are as unique as fingerprints? - Oh? - Yes. I look at this mug and think that it is sort of like your lover's body. She raised her eyebrow. - Mate, honestly, you have plenty of stuff about how the world works to learn. - Like? - Forensics. I look at this mug and think: Shit, if I ever want to kill my lover I have to make sure all drinking containers disappear. His eyes were  suddenly like those of a lost puppy: huge and sad. She furrowed her brow. - I'm sorry, was it a pick up line?

after Muriel Rukeyser So when the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse came they were met by women.  Tall women. Short women. Fierce women. Timid women. Women who supported other women, who laughed, cried and sang together. - Let us through - said the Horsemen. - After our dead bodies - answered the women. The Horsemen furrowed their brows. There was a slight buzz around them, like from a beehive. - You know, it can be done - they answered. The women closed their eyes and shook their heads with disdain. - You tried so many times, you could at last learned the fucking lesson - they answered. - We are indestructible, when we are together.