Katie Treisch

“Dottie sat in her rocking chair as night settled over the dewy castle grounds. Her son Antonio had already gone to bed, and as she worked on her embroidery, she felt herself stiffen from the slight draft from the still-closed cottage window. She tugged at the faded, rose-colored shawl around her shoulders a little tighter with her knobby fingers. That was when she heard it. *Slapslapslapslapslapslap* A sound she had not heard since her dear husband Paulo had been alive. She gazed out the window and stared at the stark white form of a man running past her cottage, his impressive manhood giving her a fond reminder of days past. She watched his ivory buttocks as they faded into the night, and she smiled. It had turned into a better evening than she could’ve ever hoped, as the faint slapping sound grew more and more distant.”
― Delemhach, The House Witch