My own witches.

“My stories were full of boys and girls gruesomely raped and murdered, babies cooked in pots of boiling beans, vampires and soldiers and long razor-sharp knives. Witches cut off the heads of children and grown-ups. Gangs of women rode in on motorcycles and set fire to people’s houses. The ground opened and green-black lizard tongues shot up to pull people down. I got to be very popular as a baby-sitter; everyone was quiet and well-behaved when I told stories, their eyes fixed on my face in a way that made me feel like one of my own witches casting a spell.”
Dorothy Allison, Bastard Out of Carolina

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