Intro to book: excerpts from Cake, Loveplay, Santa, Maria and Cohappulations
Updated: Jul 28
Skye Station HODD Subtle. S.S.H.S!
By Vanessa Brownbridge and the Gaia Solar
In honour of Anonymia ‘O Fae
It started with a baker’s dozen and the candle stick maker at thirteen, such a lucky number, but when the wrong butcher got involved, it became the Deadly Dozen and the cats got out. Come morning, by the time the roosters crowed, the chickens and birds were missing, same as the dogs – and rumour had it, they had all gone the way of the bats.
Oh – the humans, they were sad –
‘Sweet dogums . . . stolen!’
Some said, ‘deliberately cooked . . . as food!’ An unforgivable act!
Forbidden! Yet in some places they were offered as dinner!
Abominable! Abuse sacrilegious for others who kept them as children and pets!
“Bewitching the dogs were!” was the excuse quoted everywhere . . . yet it was ‘bewitching’ that got them stolen in the first place!
Some tricky Apes, in an undignified attempt and insidious bid out of fashion, to take over the Universe and control all bold Nature by CREEDY; addled the good watchdogs with their witchsticks – stole something they never should have touched, then got them to beg, rollover and play DEAD! All rumored of course, but apparently it started out in someone else’s East. And with these kind of stories. . . it always did.
Come morning by the time the roosters crowed, the chickens and birds were missing, same as the dogs – and rumor had it, they had all gone the way of the bats . . .
Since it was rumored to have happened on the DOG’S Watch in the bitter, gory Almanack Wars, the uppity Clock Stop Witch and stopped the Wise Patterned Clock, as there seemed to be none!
“The Times!” she called out sternly, coming down from her boil – shrugged, waved her wand once and went on her way. Then suddenly she espied me and flashed me her smile and I knew how the Phoenix got stolen away!
I too was a home brewed Witch just like the folks in this story. One day. . . a malodorous imposter, made famously stupid from incessant inbreeding appeared and kicked me asunder, but another Oather’s daughter also flung out far and as crudely, caught me up in their story and so we shared two of the same, but different.
We met others like us, totally unique and far out of course! We told them our stories, they gave us theirs – then we laughed harder than kittens and that just was!