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.
Children of Thunder
During a power outage, you can always tell where the pagans live.
Just look for the candlelight.
A big Thunderstorm blew through one night. Lights were out all over south Minneapolis.
My boyfriend at the time lived just down the street. I walked over. We undressed and stood holding each other.
He looked into my face.
"Witches look best by candlelight," he said, smiling.
We kissed.
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