"He watched as she stalked a wide, slow circle that took her all the way around the car. She was wearing something short and black. Magic again? Without taking his eyes off her, he took off his St. Christopher’s medal and hung it from the rear-view. He could feel her energy and gripped the steering wheel, mesmerized.
She stopped a few paces out in front of the car. Both hands reached for the stars, then she crouched low and brushed the wet grass with her fingertips. No candles, no incense. She spoke into the darkness like it was listening.
Hear me sisters, Fire, Wind, Water and Earth, in all your names and guises.
Light the watchtowers for us. Hold back the night.
I ask cover from all quarters.
Bless us this circle and we within."
"Prophets Tango" by Deborah Lacativa 2019