Bokelskere.no

It was about as bare as a mountain could be.
Most of the trees gave out about halfway to the top, only a few pines hanging on to give an effect very similar to the couple of pathetic strands teased across his scalp by a baldie who won't own up.
It was a place where witches met.
Tonight a fire gleamed on the very crest of the hill. Dark figures moved in the flickering light.
The moon coasted across a lacework of clouds.
Finally, a tall, pointy-hatted figure said, "You mean everyone brought potato salad?"