The Witch in the street walking fast, his face all rolled up into a thousand wrinkles of anger, the black robes sweeping the sidewalk swept by the advancing foot furious, one after the other, with ravenous frenzy in a vain attempts to flee from.
The scepter of the past, the beloved broom hanging sideways, tied at the waist with a sash gray sadly and followed the lady that proceeded without a goal, surrounded by a cloud of bitterness and despair.
She was a witch, but no one saw the witch who was in her, all women saw only a gray, angry, moody.
The dazzling magic and dozing in the Witch did not see anyone.
now even she thought more of being a witch, but a young woman without any past or future, in this building that choked and could not live.
anger, envy, made her bow her head and hasten the pace more and more to nowhere.
But then a bird warbled and one child said Mom, look, a witch !
The child received a resounding slap from her mother el 'admonition to be more respectful with the old. That woke the
slap, tears of the child saw all his past and looked at her amazing, multifaceted future.
He looked up from the pavement to the sky and his eyes filled with blue, grabbed the broom and the broom shone like gold thread, her black dress was shining like a rare oriental silk, lay the face reappeared and its ancient ecstatic smile and then, only then, Ritov &:
He got on his broom and flew, at last high in the friendly sky, giving the child's fantasy about the victory and giving respectability to the skeptical mother can still believe in witches.
The scepter of the past, the beloved broom hanging sideways, tied at the waist with a sash gray sadly and followed the lady that proceeded without a goal, surrounded by a cloud of bitterness and despair.
She was a witch, but no one saw the witch who was in her, all women saw only a gray, angry, moody.
The dazzling magic and dozing in the Witch did not see anyone.
now even she thought more of being a witch, but a young woman without any past or future, in this building that choked and could not live.
anger, envy, made her bow her head and hasten the pace more and more to nowhere.
But then a bird warbled and one child said Mom, look, a witch !
The child received a resounding slap from her mother el 'admonition to be more respectful with the old. That woke the
slap, tears of the child saw all his past and looked at her amazing, multifaceted future.
He looked up from the pavement to the sky and his eyes filled with blue, grabbed the broom and the broom shone like gold thread, her black dress was shining like a rare oriental silk, lay the face reappeared and its ancient ecstatic smile and then, only then, Ritov &:
She was a Witch!
He got on his broom and flew, at last high in the friendly sky, giving the child's fantasy about the victory and giving respectability to the skeptical mother can still believe in witches.
the
January 2001
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