Witch Hunting

Damp sticks, and a looming dark sky only made the mob grimmer. Round about her the rioters grew louder, drowning her screams. ‘Spare me, preacher I claim sanctuary’, she screamed.

‘Witches have no sanctuary’ he said lighting the bonfire. ‎


Inspired by:

WPC: Spare

Grammar Ghoul Shape-Shifting 13: 55

Image Credit:Pixabay.com
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4 thoughts on “Witch Hunting

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