In Light of Recent Events by Elizabeth Freestone
I consider becoming a witch. I kill the blue light, sit at the wall and stare at my hands. At the backs of my hands. I spend the hours considering.
In the dark, I consider gathering armfuls of heather, cradling them, like a child, barefoot in the grass. I’d adorn the buds with honeysuckle and watch the scent drift into the hanging air. I’d still myself, let the moon wraith me and wreath me, make me a specter, just another body covered in flowers.
I am sitting at the wall in my bedroom and the sun is not yet rising. This should be where I have my epiphany, go sprinting into the moonlight, flailing with hope. This should be where I call the wind in my bones to blow it all away.
Still, I sit. I wait for the sun to bite my knuckles and soften them to gold before I straighten myself. The time for magic is over.
Elizabeth Freestone is a writer of poetry and prose living in the UK. She won the BBC Young Writer’s Award in 2016, and has since participated in the ‘New Views’ National Theatre playwriting scheme.