she can see through the trees a short story
she's a witch. i said
what rasped my friend, with me as we strode down the lane one late autumn night. what do mean a witch?
i was late getting off work in the village, and had just started home when my old friend came up behind. he would walk with me.
she's a witch. and she's been watching me i cautiously said, not without a trace of dread in my voice. she can see through the trees, i swear it.
my friend was disbelieving though, and said so. how can that be - you live alone in the thicket - the trees are so thick round your house nobody could see through them, the path to your door even winds.
i stopped and looked at him. we were barely out of the village, with a mile to go before i was home. she was out here today - i saw her waiting for me. i've got to get home first and lock the door. i know a shortcut.
my friend didnt think this was a good idea . stay on the lighted path he advised, and you'lll be home soon enough. but i insisted - and soon up ahead i came to where i would cut across the woods. it would be hard going, the undergrowth was dense, but it was way shorter.
but before he could stop me and i could even leave him and the path, i saw the lights. already in the dense forest in the way i would go.
my friend gazed into the woods and smiled grimly. well my friend he said, she can do more than see through the trees, look closer
and as squinted into the darkness, i saw her, holding a torch, walking unscathed towards my house.
and the trees were parting before her.
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