But yeah, I think that concept's got some legs to it. Disabled young people in the Forties and Fifties were treated much the same way as senile old relatives, sent to live in homes by the seaside to be bored senseless until they withered away into feeble little half-skeletons. A film I remember enjoying on that subject is The Best Of Men, a story about the founding of the Paralympic Games from a home for injured veterans. I can't help but feel that there'd be a similar sort of base for witches; all these proud warrior women being smothered and tightly controlled by well-meaning but very ableist nurses. It's meant to be a transitional area so they can return to the world without their powers, but it's... hell. Not your conventional hell, of course. Just a place of too many blankets and impenetrable restraints and a return to childhood powerlessness. The food's all pureed. The uniforms are all shapeless smock dresses. Everything is as bland and soft and clean and white as possible, and if you don't like it then you're just making a fuss about nothing. And so you sit there, choking on softness in a bright white dark.

I've been thinking about nursing homes a lot recently, so this got away from me a bit. The explanation's a bit... topical, so apologies for that. In the UK, there's currently a massive ongoing scandal regarding the Prime Minister that might genuinely force him from office regarding a garden party he held at 10 Downing Street in May of 2020. As an aside, it does rather amuse me that my cis compatriots are finding out just how long it takes to remove an unwanted Johnson in this bloody country. The point is, during the furore about it, I realised where I'd been on that day in May when Boris had had his little shindig. I was at my grandmother's funeral. We could only have ten people in the building for it, all strictly moved away. I couldn't hold my mother's hand at her mother's funeral. We all obeyed the rules, and all we got was laughed at by a braying scarecrow and his chums. So I've been thinking about nursing homes, and how they suck the life out of you, and how powerless they make you, and how powerless we all are in general, at the whim of the uncaring idle rich.

Sorry, that got a bit heavy and off-topic. Been on my mind, is all.

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"She's old, she's lame, she's barren too, // "She's not worth feed or hay, // "But I'll give her this," - he blew smoke at me - // "She was something in her day." -- Garnet Rogers, Small Victory

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