The house near the mountain was surrounded by unknown flowers. It was really a hut, the kind witches live in. My blouse was torn and my knees scraped from my fall on the road. The hut had a chimney. I hate chimneys because they remind me of Hansel and Gretel and concentration camps. What was peculiar about the little hut was that it had no door. The only way to enter it was through one of the three windows. All the windows were open. I climbed in and took bread and fruit from the wood table. In the corner of the room I saw a scythe leaning against the wall and to my horror, it moved without being touched. I left the small place as soon as I could and rushed through a valley of dark trees to find myself here.
~ Barbara Alfaro
Barbara Alfaro is one of my favorite writers. She is prolific and talented and able to whip up poetry or prose, nostalgia or modern day humor. You can find her work here at Amazon, or on her website. Enjoy!
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