The Curved Opinion Short Stories Part 8: A Witch's Curse

Today's theme I found to be an interesting one, here is what I did with it.

Write about a witch’s curse:

The woods next to the village of St Aubrens were dark and oppressive.  Sadness and pain seem to radiate out from the branches of the trees themselves and whether it was summer or winter, the leaves were always black.

The village itself was also a strange place.   There was a section in the village with rows of cottages that no one wanted to pass.  Misery seemed to hang in the air like an ever present cloud and the residents always looked like the weight of the world rested on their shoulders.

Whenever there was a celebration within the village, the festivities never reached those cottages.  Decorations were never hung, the brightly coloured lanterns were never lit, the people never seemed to smile.

Newcomers to the village never stayed long.  People were actively discouraged from buying in the area and the children who lived there moved away as soon as could.  This was not a happy village.  Because decades earlier, the village people had made a mistake, they had crossed a witch.

The villagers had always known about the witch who lived alone, or so they thought, in a tiny cottage in the woods.  Uneasy at the thought of a witch in their midst, the unspoken rule was that they left her alone and in turn, she would stay away from the village. 

After several years particularly bad harvests, the villagers started to mutter about the witch and about how she was bringing them bad luck.  One night, fueled after a night at the local tavern, those mutterings turned to anger, and the anger turned to fury.  The men of the village tore through the woods with torches alight, intent of burning the witch out of her home and getting her well away from their village.

It was only when they had set fire to the witch’s cottage that the villagers heard screams of “My children! My children!” coming from behind them.  The witch raced through the trees towards the cottage which was now fully ablaze.  There was no way anyone, even the witch, could have saved anyone inside.

The men had raced back to village, horrified at what had just occurred. 

The next day, the witch had appeared in the village square, stricken with grief at the loss of her children.  The smell of the fire was all around her and black smoke seemed to follow in her wake.   She proclaimed that every man who had entered the woods that night would suffer, that he would never know happiness again without pain.

The witch was never seen again.  Too afraid now to pursue her, the villagers never entered the woods again, and with good reason.  All the men who had entered the woods that night soon felt the consequences of her curse. 

Any feeling of happiness was followed by strong physical pain.  The sensation was described as having your heart pulled from your chest.  From a chuckle from a joke to a feeling of love or happiness caused hours of excruciating agony. 

The men soon realised that in order to survive the curse, they had to cut all happiness from their lives.  Their loved ones were sent away, they chose their food from the scraps left by others and they now each lived alone, on the same row of cottages in the village.

No one in the village knew exactly how long the cursed men had actually lived.  The years and decades passed and yet they still lived on.  Some said that they would die when the witch did. When her pain had died, so to could theirs.  

No one ever entered the St Aubrens Woods again.

Swipe Left on Love: How Phones and the Death of Nightclubs Killed Dating

I honestly am coming to the conclusion that there are two realities.  There is the reality we walk around in and see with our own eyes; and there is the reality that we seen and read about online.  Often the two seems to be at odds with one another.

Dating for example.  There are a lot of problems with dating these days.  This is going to be a two part post and I will link that post when uploaded.  

For this post, instead of talking about the usual issues (dating apps etc), I want to bring up another reason why dating is so much harder now.  You simply cannot meet people like you used to.  

I come from a regular size town.  Growing up and through my 20s and 30s the nightlife scene was amazing.  The local pubs for example.  There were three options within walking distance of my home, always guaranteed to have people in them and not just a couple of retired old men having a pint.  

I spent many a Saturday afternoon in one of the local pubs playing pool (badly) and having a flirt.  Or on a Sunday, otherwise known as "hungover, need McDonalds then pool at the pub" in town.  There were always people there to have a laugh and a flirt with.  These were regular haunts that people went to and relationships were formed as a result.

I may sound 104 when I say this, but having no mobile phone also made a difference in that.  No social media to check, no selfies.  No checking text messages, Whatapp, emails.  You were present.  Fully present, not looking at your phone every five minutes.  Even now (and unfortunately I am guilty of doing this myself) I am turned off when I am having a conversation with someone and they keep checking their phone.

Then you had the bar and nightclub scene.  You could go out on Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday if you wanted.  You did not have to drink, although most did to be fair.  I still remember the route that we used to take.

You got off the bus at 8.00pm and hit the bars (fake names used for anonymity).  Firstly, The Side Bar.  From there, Yates, The Duck & Cover, The McMillan.  Then Pink Paradise, BBs.  By 11 - 11.30 ish you were heading to one of the five nightclubs available.  Remember, this was just a regular small town.  Five nightclubs to choose from, with a line that could take 30 minutes to get to the front of unless you knew a bouncer.

This was also a time when you could do all of it, plus a takeaway pizza and a cab home for £25.

There was so much choice in where to go.  And with that choice, so many people to meet.  Two of my good friends met their husbands in one of those night clubs.  That was the thing.  You met people.  You enjoyed yourself.  You chatted, you danced.  You were not attached to your phone.  You lived.  You were home by 2.00am.

I remember once saying to my best friend while we played pool on a Sunday "God I am glad that there is no evidence of last night".  By that by the way, I meant drunken dancing, a snog with someone that I regretted, or telling a boy that I thought that he was cute when sober, I would not have dared.

Now, it is different.  Our lives are recorded and put online.  Photographs, selfies, videos.  "Funny" stories told about your friend who did x, y or z.  There is no escape.  And more, instead of losing yourself on the dance floor for two hours dancing, now the idea of fun seems to be posing and posturing for young men and young girls with a bottle of prosecco and ten thousand selfies.

The art of conversation has died.  Banter has died.  No one knows how to flirt properly any more. 
Now, my town is dead.  There are still bars, one nightclub.  But due to the licensing laws changing, no one goes out until midnight anymore.  When they do go out, they stay in their own circles.  Selfies, group photos.  Posing. 

Or worse.  I went to a party recently for a 25th birthday and all the attendees went home at midnight.  Not even to a house party.  Home.  At midnight.  They didn't even seem to be having fun.  Girls, looking identical with their contouring and perfect outfits, but sitting their taking pictures of themselves.  Only when they got drunk did they dance, for the last hour.  Then home.  Home?

Bring back the nightclubs.   Change the licensing laws that close the clubs by 2.00am.  Stop taking your mobile phone out on a night out.  Talk to men. Talk to women.  

Live.  Have fun.  We have stopped living, except for the 'Gram.