Today I read:
There was once a woman called Right Velmy, who lived in a small, crooked house that sat upon a hill. Each morning, a fog swirled up the hill where her crooked house sat. The fog swirled as high as the windows and it tapped at them. This woman had eyes like candle flames and two hands with nimble sewing fingers and she wore her long black hair in a high and haughty ponytail. Right Velmy was not a witch, though she did know a little magic.