The Hare Witch.

Tiny clouds of dust kicked up from the dry ground like puffs of smoke, shot into the air in haste and then settling slowly… quietly,

sparkling in the sunlight like tiny fairies.

The only evidence of the long legged, long eared hare that had been there only moments before…

Watching.

Ears pricked.

Nose twitching imperceptibly…

In her mind she draws a picture of what… or who moves towards her from sound and smell alone.

And the she is gone.

Into the woods.

To a cottage.

But now within … nothing but an old old woman, sitting by a roaring, crackling fire, the creases on her face deepen and lighten again with each flicker of the flame.

her pale, tired, red rimmed eyes..

Watching…

her small, long lobed ears…

Listening…

her nose twitching…. Imperceptibly.