Before disappearing behind a cloud, Dita replied, “Of course, Truman, Earth is your home.”

“Would you build me a bridge, if I asked you too?”

Dita understood I didn’t mean literally, so she smiled and replied, “Depends where you’re traveling, Truman.”

“Back to Earth,” I clarified with a grin. “Would you build me a bridge should I return from the moon?”

My eyes grew heavy, my thoughts effervescent.  Before slipping into my slumber, Dita blanketed me with a parting spell…

“Although you are waning, when I think of you, I will start to glow…”

When I was alive, I believed that witches were loveless old hags who preyed on children and worshiped Satan.  This stereotype, I’ve since discovered, couldn’t be further from the truth.

Not only are witches caring and often beautiful, they’re also extremely devoted to God… or rather, God’s return.

I wouldn’t compare witches to nuns; they live by a very different code. But I’d argue nuns look spoon-fed when compared to the sacrifices of the witch.

I’m more inclined to compare witches to warriors.  While she may not wield a sword or slay her opponent on a battlefield, a witch’s wounds run deep, and her threshold for pain is unparalleled.

I was once an altar boy who aspired to be a priest.  I never consider myself the haunting kind, never imagined that in death I’d be defending witches… But unique circumstances have brought me here.

This blog is a chronicle of my mystical journey, my travels through time with witch named Dita.

Our story offers a different take on the dark and a caution about the light.

This is the truth about witches, the unsung daughters of God.

Respectfully,

Man on the Moon.