On a dusty plain that only crickets

& distant wolves usually sing

 

Now sits a caravan of misfits

 

The type that keeps you on the edge

of wonder & unease.

 

Filled with people that

seem to be other-worldly

& intriguing.

​

 

Antique carriage cars with candle lanterns &

faded multicolored tents that glow like cave

mushrooms in the dark foggy night.

​

 

One such tent catches your eye. Mossy

green & deep purple fabric that seems to

fade to gold under the moon light as you

approach… A peak inside sits a frosted globe,

swirling with energy almost begging to

answer the question you didn’t know you

wanted answered a moment ago.

Sandalwood is in the air & crystals

shimmer on the shelves.

​

 

This is where Wihelmena lives...

this is where her magic is kept.