Tansy Undercrypt
Author, Illustrator, Purveyor of Doom & Whimsy

Diary Pages: Mary Bradbury Perkins

August 13th 2017 in Microfiction

Salem has gone mad.
John has been accused and I am convicted without arrest or trial as his wife (as all women are assumed to be directly under the influence of Satan). We sit here, strangely at ease, wondering if they intend to execute us separately or together (burning or drowning for me, crushing for him). All light seems far away.
But it is still there.

Two men from the mill are smuggling us to the harbor in Boston tonight on the delivery truck. We will take all of the money in the house and the clothes on our backs (dressing in layers for warmth). When we arrive in England, John will reach out to his second cousin for help with shelter and secondary transport. 

I will pack my needles and fine work shears into my traveling bonnet. I have been using them to embroider the spells I’ve learned on the inside of my corset (for just such a moment as this). I have sewn talisman pouches of acorn, birch bark, and a copper coin into the linings of our coats.

I can hear the mill team drawing near. It is almost time. 

The false travel papers will remove the name of “Perkins” forever; we are to use the name of John’s great aunt going forward: Potter. Ezra and Ottoline Potter.

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