Thursday 23 April 2020

Faggots

I can see them from my window and I shudder.

I try to ignore them and focus on the wildlife but it's no good, my eyes are drawn back time and time again.

I think I'll have to move on, the fear is really affecting me.

Every time I walk past I'm convinced I can smell burning. The fear gets stronger.

I will definitely have to move soon, that's the good thing about living on a boat, if you don't like your neighbours or the area, just move.

It's a shame, I like it here, it's quiet and conveniently placed but I'm too scared to sleep and waking in a panic in the night.

There is a huge bonfire being built in a nearby field, that doesn't bother me. It's just a pile of rubbish, stuff that will burn.

But this, this scares me, if I get too close I swear I can smell burning, I can feel the heat.

They don't burn witches nowadays, but they used to, or at least that was the excuse. Most of us weren't witches, we were just too old, a bit strange, too inconvenient.

It's the neatness of the branches, they remind me of the faggots, lined up, stacked almost upright around the stake. This is not a normal bonfire. This could have been stacked by someone who burned witches in their previous life.




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