NEW Story: Drip
✿ This article was featured in Issue #7 of the Atlantic Bulletin
When the light shifted just right, the ceramic tiles and concrete footpaths twinkled like water off the back of a swan. 16th Century witches could build a hut in the woods and forage for herbs; 21st Century witches were susceptible to modernist persuasions.
The Demotic Meeting Hall was constructed twenty years prior as the main meeting hall of the National Dockworker’s Union. Situated on the coast, and along the recently-built monorail line to Roya, it dominated the coastline like a mythic lighthouse. Where the cathedrals of Europe built spires to God, Vekllei built towers for dockmen. At 112 meters tall, the hall’s colossal window structures were awesome within, and its massive bronze ornament glittered for miles. It was palatial.
The Dockworker’s Union moved west to Montre at some point, so these days it was simply the Roya Demotic Community Hall. It was used for all sorts of things, not least of which domestic tourism. Its lookout provided views across the North-West Fjords. When Tzipora first arrived in Vekllei, the scale and decadence of it appealed to her enormously. It was depicted on her language booklet, and since then she’d developed a minor fascination with the structure.
She got her chance to visit upon her invitation to a costume party hosted by the Chef’s Concern. Tzipora is a witchy sort of person, and the idea of going as a witch appealed to her. She already had the wardrobe — as Cobian remarked:
“You’ve put on a hat and you’re holding a stick — that’s it.”
“It’s my costume,” Zelda said. “I’m a witch.”
You can see her here attempting to recreate the sumptuous curve of the Meeting Hall in witch form.