The vultures came with the premonition of death, the Vikings warning of new territory and adventure, and the Angels came to support me.
The mailman came with a Certified Letter: the square hit in the forehead by the two-by-four I needed to make this necessary change.
Without all the muck, which boiled over from Cerridwyn’s cauldron, the tar-ish goo, sticking to the side and all, I now report I have been tossed from the fire and left to cool……
Little Red Corvette played on the radio.
The story begins where I quite my job, take on writing for a living and live my life along the Priestess Path…
Blessed Be!