Each weave and knot was a life touching another. Where a thread ended...Such was how a witch perceived the ineffable.I found hers. It was a slender sk...in of silk, dyed blue. It appeared strong, though I dared not touch it. I found mine. It ran close to hers, touching it in several places. However, they were not intertwined. I saw Erica's. It was easy to find, being knotted up with mine. That pleased me.It was not enough to see the tapestry. The winds of fortune blew constantly. The threads. Marcie was of mixed race but her features and certainly her skin colour favoured her father.The Hewlett's were relatively wealthy and the party was attended by a large number of family and friends, one of the family members was the Hewlett's twenty-one-year-old son Robert who was currently home from university.Although the invitation was there to stay at the large house, Marcie had instead taken a room for a few nights in a local hotel. She and Rosemary got on reasonably well but had never. More

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