by herself
Some of those fuddy-duddy men who like to collect quaint stories – “folklorists” is how they’ve started to call themselves in the last century or so – come up with some right howlers as they sit there in their armchairs getting boozed. Let’s you and I get a thing or two straight. The name’s Black Annis, but you may call me ‘Cat’ Anna between yourselves – but not to my face, if you value the appearance of yours. As any kid growing up in Leicester would have told you, my home used to be Black Annis’ Bower Close – a posh address for a cave, but that’s what happens when you’re famous. It’s in a small natural outcrop on the Dane Hills – that’s off to the west of the city on the way to Glenfield, if you’re not from these parts.
Witch's Well 