Profile

An old crone stands in the midst of the flames, her back hunched, a cane carries half her weight. While she cannot straighten out her spine, neither is she taking a kneel on the burning ground; her spirit stands proud. The roaring sea of flames engulfing the vast heathlands all around does nothing to tame her, to harm her. Despite her back, she does not bend her knee. Her body may know limitations, but she is no prisoner of them, she knows no bounds – her feet tread the embers, the red-hot coals, her skin is licked by tongues of fire and for a moment, in the glow, she looks like a younger woman, free even of time.

That is when she disappears, the blaze is all which is left in her wake.

Layout by myrtillenne.