Many of my stories are set in the woods near where I live, and my inspiration for ‘Witches’ came from the same place.
The clearing where I set the story really does exist, and just after dawn on a sunny morning shafts of light fall through the trees and illuminate it in a truly magical way.
One rainy morning I found the remains of a campsite there, and some of the trees had been marked with odd graffiti. It set my imagination off and running. What if there had been some sort of ritual? Who might have taken part? And what would they do if someone discovered them?
I don’t really believe there are witches in the woods. But there are times, when the mist is slow to burn off, or the rain has just finished falling, that the trees seem to be holding their breath, as if in waiting. For what, I don’t really want to know…