The Mud-witch - a short story collaboration | Page 19

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The Mud-witch is enjoying the view from the water, the world reversed, safe from the people
that hurry through the dark on the river bank. Soon there is no-one, the river widening, the
lights left behind. A bright moon turns the water to tarnished silver.
‘I’m Minno,’ the boy says, as they drift past the dark humps of the first willow trees. ‘And I didn’t
wish to be taken away. Somebody else wished for me.’
‘Why?’
Before he can answer the Mud-witch has heaved herself over the side and is wading, dragging
the boat. ‘Home,’ she says, and when Minno peers down he can see that the water gives way to
mud. He squelches along behind the Mud-witch.
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