midsommar coven

it’s all a blur right now, but just so I won’t forget: tonight I hosted one last potluck before leaving stucco. Blake and I decorated the hall with flowers and candles, and we hosted a feast accompanied by our favourite witchy music. the turnout was phenomenal, with everyone bringing food and writing their fears on the wings of the cranes I’ve folded during my time here. Mitch played Truman Sleeps for us on the piano, and I cried. we burnt our fears in the courtyard, everyone around throwing a handful of cranes into the fire. a golden evening I won’t let myself forget. how lucky I have been <<