Matthew Hopkins has uncovered evil in our midst ~ neighbours, once trusted, are now suspects. My milk has soured and the babe sickens, so I must save Eliza from their ill wishing. I take a small bottle, half fill it with pins, add a lock of Eliza’s downy hair, drops of her urine then stopper it with a cork. I stand by the open window to drip candle wax to seal it.
As I incant a powerful protection spell the Witchfinder General passes, retraces his steps, points his black gloved finger at me and his mouth forms the word ‘witch’.
About the author: Clare Marsh is a UK based writer. Her work has appeared internationally in Lighthouse, Ink, Sweat and Tears, Flash Flood, Pure Slush, Places of Poetry, and The Binnacle. In 2017 she was a Pushcart Prize nominee and was awarded M.A. Creative Writing at the University of Kent in 2018.