Notes of a playful witch – 1

-          I haven't heard you laugh today, - noted the Cat.

-          I know. That little Bonsai I bought as a Keeper, he is dying. He didn't settle here. Not the right energy for him.

-          You bought him without liking him, so what do you expect? Why should he live?

-          But now I do like him… I am feeling his agony. Why?

The Witch wiped a tear.

The Cat wiped her whiskers.

-          Tell him. Tell him you didn't mean to bring him in unwelcome.

-          You think? – the Witch caressed the little leaves, slowly turning brown and falling off, one by one.

The tree shrugged. It was too late, of course.

-          I wanted a Keeper, - whispered the Witch to the ground, because she couldn't bear to look at the dying tree.

-          Because you're too lazy and trusting to put up defences every night by yourself? – smirked the cat.

-          No, - smiled the Witch. – I am expanding the Base. And nobody would dare invade, anyway. All Monsters are on vacation, remember?

The Base, or the Healing Ground, was a magical place where people came to look for missing pieces and glue broken ones. A repairs shop for the soul. A place where the puzzle suddenly began to look like a coherent picture, molded in the skilled hands of the Witch. It looked like she was just tossing the pieces around, but what can one do, if they didn't fit before, and now they do? That's why she's a Witch. She Knew. When she handed back the puzzle, the person would stare in disbelief at the pieces that did not fit before, and wonder if she secretly cropped them. But she wouldn't. Dexterity and just a bit of magic, that was all. When a Witch isn't afraid of bonfires, she can accomplish plenty, and even without cropping pieces.

She dipped her hand in the barrel and sprinkled some sparkles around. That was all she could do for now.

She finished the dishes, put on a laundry, and stretched out on the couch. Witch Rule #1: for every hour of work – 10 minutes rest. At least. Facebook wasn't renewing. Bummer. She closed her eyes.

"At least ten minutes of connecting to yourself", she muttered. – "How could they know what our lives would be like, and how much we’d need this rule?"

"Which parts of me did I kill recently? Trees don't just die."

In her mind's eye, a picture of her came up. Standing on her feet for hours, cooking, cleaning, showering her babies. Backache and woozy head. But that was ages ago. All the babies were already in school. It had to be something else.

And then, just like that, she knew.

A neighbor said something, and she was afraid. So afraid. Shaking at the thought of the Keeper who would not Keep, and left, many moons ago… She made her powerful self so little, and then turned invisible. Again, just like that, she surrendered her power, for no reason. A part of her hid. Sure, it could be found… brought back.  

The Witch had a quick look inside. The missing piece was all crumpled, like a piece of paper, under the couch. A deep breath into the Earth…

"Are you afraid, darling?"

She cuddled the piece of her soul, then gently put it back.

A sigh of relief escaped the Keeper tree.

-          I almost thought I'd have to die for you….

-          If you have a new shoot by tomorrow, you may come back into the Base, - she replied briskly. – Get working, we need you.

She jumped up, and ran to her next job, giggling like a five-year-old.