the.witch

i saw a witch last night...she sat next to me on the bus. she was old and young, both at the same time. her skin was like wet cardboard boxes, wrinkled, humid, stained. she had veins popping out of her hands...clogged with thick prune juice. i drank some beer and tried not to be so obvious about my strange need to stare right at her.

dressed in black pulling a little shopping cart. 1 in the morning. eyes like ancient swamps, like mud pools to drown in a hipnotic state.

and her hair was trying to bite me, it was white fire, snakes of snow, in her ravenous hair you could see what kept her alive. one page of the book she had read: are you superstitious...

i guess i thought i wasn't.

i felt a strong need to draw, or write. i tore a page of my sketchbook and hoped to not see the note the next day.

what color is your hair? it said.

i came home and went to bed at 1:45