Jim was lost. He’d seen a boar
and gave chase through the woods; but he was too noisy and the beast was too quick;
it had seen him the moment he decided to move towards it and had charged off
into the undergrowth. Now he’d come off the trail and he couldn’t find his way
back. Darkness had fallen and he was struggling to make out the difference in
the ground between stream and undergrowth. In the distance a fog had crept in and
he could also hear voices. Perhaps his family had ventured out to look for him;
concerned that he hadn’t returned before sunset. As he got closer he noticed
that the fog was actually steam, and the voices were of three hooded elderly
women. They seemed to be stirring a cauldron of some kind. Bitches! As he
turned to go back, his foot fell onto a twig which snapped.
‘Well hello sonny.’
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