by T.M. Chapman

Created on: July 08, 2011

Witch tales

“Oh my goodness!” Mrs. Bevil shrieked, covering her eyes with one hand and whirling away, “Where are your clothes?!”

“Oh, I took them off so I could dance naked under the full moon,” Alice smiled back brightly.

Not that Mrs. Bevil could see my roommate's pearly whites, what with her back turned and all.

I glared at Alice. Why was she doing this to me? She knew I wanted this woman's support for a space in an art gallery.

“Oh, um, well...” Mrs. Bevil coughed, peeked over her shoulder and turned around uncertainly. After a long, awkward moment, she gave Alice a tentative smile and clasped her hands in front of her. “It's the middle of the day, dearie, and the next full moon isn't for another two weeks,” she turned toward me with a skeptical look, “Is this...normal...among your household?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that it most certainly was NOT. Too bad Alice was always faster at speaking than me.

“Oh, sure,” she smiled, “Ours is a Wiccan household. On Sundays, we sacrifice a chicken to the gods,” she added in a cheery tone.

I balled my fists and glared at Alice, my face burning. Why?! She must enjoy seeing me suffer. That was the only conclusion I could come up with.

“Ah...I, uh...” Mrs. Bevil gave me a nervous glance and cleared her throat.

I couldn't have spoken if I wanted to. I was too mortified to even look at her. Mrs. Bevil gave Alice another tentative smile before she turned and walked out the door quickly. I hurried after her, opening my mouth to apologize, but Alice bounded over and flung her arms around me.

“Did I mention we're wild lovers?!” she shouted after the older woman's retrieving form down the driveway.

“Get off!” I snapped, shoving her away and slamming the front door, “Why did you do that?! Every word out of your mouth was a lie,” I followed her into the living room, “You know I want that space in the gallery,” I could feel angry tears gathering behind my eyes, “I've been after this achievement since I was eight years old!”

Alice sighed and grabbed her robe from the back of the couch. “Relax,” she rolled her eyes as she wrapped the robe around herself, “Not every word was a lie. We ARE Wiccans. Anyway, you don't want that old bat's help. She'll ruin you, trust me. She'll take your work and claim it as her own. It happens all the time, you

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