The Witch's TongueThe sky was still and heavy. I sat alone, listening to the wind slide over the rooftops like a whisper that didn’t want to be heard. That night, God spoke. Not in thunder. Not in fire. But in silence beside the television set. He gave visions. Six or seven, clear and hard as bullets. And one of them — one — was dark enough t

It was the kind of morning that made you feel like the world was on the verge of something grand, yet you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. The wind swept through the trees of the small town, whispering of changes in the air. Inside her cozy little shop—tucked between two ancient stone buildings—Slavic sat at a table scattered with tarot