Witchcraft at Home

“Is it a little much?” I ask a ghost as I busy myself adjusting the purple plastic bats. I adjust the kitschy grin of a jack-o-lantern. “Is it ever enough?” the ghost replies as it tinkers with the cotton cobwebs, it fusses over the striped leggings of the witch. A monster walks in, eyes as wide and as joyous as the full moon.


The divining stones did not answer because they were sleeping, frustrating the witch to no end. No matter the prodding, pleading, or glaring, they remained fast asleep, dreaming of gentle breezes and the refreshing light of the sun, dreaming of spring and the blessings of summer.


“Animals doing human activities are so adorable,” the witch said to her friend.

“I found this adorable website that features that.”

“Oh, no I meant…”

Hopping in from the other room, a black rabbit wearing wire-rim glasses cleared its tiny throat, “Sarah I think I have found a way to safely increase your retirement portfolio by 2% a year, but it will require us to tighten our belts for six months. Oh hello Janine, didn’t hear the door. How is Mister Sprinkles?”


Tea left to chill accidentally is a sacrifice, unintentional but appreciated, to passing spirits. To the eldritch, nothing ever goes to waste.


Good morning my coffee cups and ghosts and jars of grave dirt and storm water and things that skirt away when looked at and glassless windows and broken mirrors and empty clocks and lost spirits and rocks that I swear were a different color last night and vials of moonlight suspended in water.

Good morning books read and loved, good morning books and unread but never unloved, good morning pens and jars of ink that work and jars of gunk that were formerly ink that never quite sorted themselves out.

Good morning letters and cards and notes and things to say to people and things that ought have been said sooner and good morning secrets that will never be shared.

Good morning sunrise above the lake, good morning nymphs and mermaids and swimming monsters that lure the unwary to their doom and the unwise out of their breakfast because you know I cannot resist those teeth when you smile so wide and bright. I don’t mind sharing. I brought extra.