Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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The Potion and the Plague: A Parable



The oldest witch sent word round the village: Plague is coming.

Witches lie, said some.

She was right, though: plague did come. It was bad. Many fell ill. Some died.

To each house she sent round a flask of potion, with the message: Here, drink this.

The witch-folk all drank, of course, and some of the others too; but some would not.

Worse 'n' plague, they said, anything comes from a witch.

Of those that drank, nearly all lived, and in this way, many were saved. But among those who refused the potion, many, many died.

On their own heads be it, said the oldest witch.




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Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.


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