In this speculative memoir, an academic writes about chronic pain and liminal spaces she exists in

I always thought wizards were the lucky ones. Witches always got the worst of it. They got the hatred, the fear, the accusations. Witches, at least in Europe, were both an object of fear and fascination. My favourite was the Weird Sisters, the Wayward Sisters in Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

“Double, double, toil and trouble, Fire burn and cauldron bubble…”

What if Shakespeare had created wizards instead? Would they have been too aggressive, not seductive enough, not fascinating, just simply scary? One wizard is too much. Three’s a crowd, but not when they’re three women. In Macbeth, they predict the Prince’s ascent to the throne and his eventual downfall. They represent the darkness and chaos that will soon become his fate.

And just like that, they vanish into thin air. Their presence is not one that should last, and they should not hold center stage. They’ve done the deed, and we don’t want them there anymore. We don’t know why they were witches in the first place or if they each had a very distinct personality.

Their power was undeniable. They could tell where you were going in life and could see right through you. But they were not seen as wise. Wizards, though, have their name originating from...

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