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The Sorceress

I sit with the sorceress in her private rooms,
heart thumping.
I don’t want to ruin this opportunity,
the only opportunity I have
to forget everything
to forget everything

“Why do you seek me?” she asks,
calmly,
ignoring the anxiety she must know I feel.
“I want to get rid of something,” I say,
slowly,
ignoring the anxiety I feel.
“Well, what?” she asks,
unhurriedly,
tone unworried, unconcerned.
“I’d like to get rid of my bad memories,” I say,
steadily,
thinking my request may be possible.

The sorceress laughs,
cruelly,
and a feeling of dread engulfs me.
“Well, it’s possible, for a fee,” she says,

maliciously,
and I begin to panic.
“I can pay anything,” I reply,

desperately,
knowing my resources are limited.

The sorceress grins,
heartlessly,
baring crooked teeth.
“I require your soul,” she says,
pitilessly,
grinning maniacally.

“But if I have no soul, bad memories won’t bother me,” I say,
carefully,
lacking understanding of the sorceress’s request.
“I know,” she replies,
deliberately,
her crooked-tooth smile widening.

The sorceress cackles,
reverberatingly,
and I begin to understand.

I run from the sorceress and her private rooms,
heart thumping.
This opportunity,
the only opportunity I had
made me see
made me see





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