Ten people attended the ceremony, an evening meal in summer sunshine. Some drank wine, others, water. A warm, summer breeze blew through the windows, eight of them in this peculiar room that hung suspended over the river, flowing below. Incense burned but there was no solemnity, just curiosity and an underlying note of joy.

The ceremony didn’t last long but that was fitting. Sandra, the high priest presiding, said she didn’t like the phrase ‘witchcraft’ and preferred ‘wisecraft’. A few nodded but others listened, bemused.

‘You can have all the knowledge in the world but only wisdom can understand.’

May 18: Flash Fiction Challenge

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