Biddy

And she was into the weave now — pink and pungent — the numinous spook, the cinnamon cookie, the mad anima who had never left off being a kid. Plappergeistic and poltergeistic, the lavender lightning was about her especially — the witch who was no more than a sketch in red chalk. She had really never had a body, that Bedelia — only a chalk sketch of one. This gave her a certain lightness, and there was enough heaviness in some of the others.Summer lightning, lavender lightning inside the walls, and hazel-colored sparks out of her eyes. She had been, perhaps, the primordial mutation — light enough to come to life — and the heavier, normal things had not arrived till later. Fourth Mansions (1969)