The Witch

by DavidReinold

Cantamen Primum - Bibliotheca Hieme (III Pars - Stella et Luna)

I find myself sprawled across what I must say is a reasonably comfortable bed. It is my own bed, and I find it a useful place to retreat to. The wool fibres of the plaid comforter tickle my arms and lull me into what can only be called a contemplative sleep. My eyes droop, and my body goes numb.

Suddenly, my mind is all that exists, and I am alone with my thoughts. Or, more or less, my thoughts are lined up against the wall, and I stand before them holding a baton, threatening to beat them if they did not tell me the truth. There is one thought, I note, that looks particularly shifty. It's that one in the corner, the one that says I saw Twilight Sparkle disappear into thin air. That's a lie if I ever heard one - no such thing is possible. Most likely, this thought is making the whole thing up. I had obviously seen nothing of the sort, and this thought could not have been misinformed by my loyal and dutiful senses, so clearly, the entire story must have been fabricated.

But of course, this begs the question... what did I see?

Personifying my neurons and their instances of firing is not helping me any. I open my eyes, hop up from my bed, and relocate to the kitchen where I begin to boil some tea. The cold of the hardwood floor permeates my soles and I find my mind suddenly stimulated. My thoughts become clearer.

I must have been confused. Maybe I blinked, and missed seeing her run off. That had to be it. At this point I can't even remember if I heard her footsteps. Maybe I did and just don't remember. Maybe I didn't, and she was simply light on her feet. And that flash of magenta - perhaps that was just a reflection. Perhaps she was wearing a cut of amethyst on a necklace or bracelet or a pin, and perhaps a car drove by just as I thought she disappeared.

Perhaps you're certifiably insane, I think to myself. While that certainly is a distinct possibility, I can't just assume anything when a perfectly reasonable explanation presents itself.

Perhaps, my thoughts continue on without me, there is something deeper. Maybe neither answer is right. Neither is right? As if to say that the violet flash wasn't from a car, and I'm also not completely off my rocker? As if to say that she didn't run off, but rather that she did in fact dematerialize right before my eyes? Of course, this is absurd. I've already established that people do not just disappear into thin air; and I would rather not assume I am mentally unstable. Though there were other explanations. It was late at night. Maybe my brain was just playing tricks on me.

Maybe it still is playing tricks on you. You know what? I've had it with these thoughts. I turn the burner off and dump the warm tea water down the drain. Dwelling on the situation is not helping me any. I need to get out. Maybe take a walk? I do love these evenings. I don't necessarily have to go back to the library, not immediately anyway. No, I just need to clear my head is all.

I grab my keys from off my kitchen counter, wrap myself up in my trusty wind breaker, and exit my humble abode. The cool evening air hits me as my feet collide with pavement. My neighborhood is much more lively than that of the library. Sounds of roaring engines and industrial generators fill my ears. I pause for a moment before making an about-face to look up at my home. In the pale glow of the street lamps it vaguely reminds me of the brownstones I had seen on my trip to America several years prior. I take a deep breath in, and sigh it out. Steam. Without further hesitation, I walk.

Keeping a slow and steady pace, I look up at the sky. Despite the harshly polluted air in my industrial neighborhood, the stars are all out and in full view. A smile crosses my face as I look up at the hundreds upon hundreds of constellations. Their presence penetrates my heart. For a reason I've never been able to explain, staring at the stars has always brought me comfort. It makes me feel as if I am not alone. As if each and every one of those stars is my companion on the journey of life. And perhaps they truly are. So long as the sky is visible, the stars will light my path. So long as I can sort them out, they will show me how to find my way. And if I should lose hope and fall into a bottomless pit of emotion, the stars will not hesitate to aid in my escape.

Especially that one star. The one that is not a star, but shines brighter than any star in sight.

That beautiful argentum moon, hanging untarnished in the night sky.

I look up to see what shape appears upon its fascinating surface this particular night. The clusters of craters are pale, and I can barely make it out, but it appears to be some sort of animal, with a spire protruding from its head. I am confused for a moment, because I have never heard of such a shape appearing on the moon. But like everything else today, it is probably just my imagination.