The old woman turned and smiled a sinister smile. The floor felt sticky and all of a sudden, I felt trapped.
Her the spider.
Me the fly.
She turned back around, stuck a long match and proceeded to light three candles. She shook the match which caused sparks to shoot from it. She then stuck the matchstick in the grey bun on top of her head.
“I lit three candles to rid the room of evil energy,” she said as she extended an invitation for me to sit down in a black wicker chair with a red seat cushion. I did, and became even more uncomfortable, if that was even possible. She sat down in a desk chair behind a large screen so that all I could see was the top of her bun.
“The couple who was here before you, their four year old was missing. She had been missing for three months. I told them she was kidnapped by a pedophile, raped repeatedly, and buried in the woods not too far from here. The father leapt from the seat where you are sitting now and choked me. The mother chanted in Latin and the police came in my store and arrested him. I can’t have those kinds of evil Spirits loose in here. I had to purify my dwelling.”
“As for you, Love does not happen with spells or potions. Obligations or traps. It is Spiritual. Natural. He will never Love you the way he Loves her. She is one of us. The Lightworkers. You will never be as bright as her.”
I angrily reached for my purse to pay the wretched witch. She held up one finger to halt me.
“Like the Shea’s I do not take money from pawns of darkness. Leave; find Light. And don’t think about recasting the spell. He has already been purified by her kiss.
Then she appeared from a back room. My skin instantly became hot. What kind of woman would do that to another?
“The kind of woman who doesn’t have to buy Love because it is already glowing within her. He is attracted to that glow” Then she giggled, “and a few other attributes but you do not need to know that. Let your imagination run wild. Wild. Yes wild is appropriate.”
She can read my mind, fuck!!!
Then the young woman smiled sweetly and turned around.
© michele mitchell, 2014
Story Prompt: http://shortstoryideas.herb.me.uk/firstlines.htm
Photo credit: www.scenicreflections.com