The Witch

 

The Witch

And have I told you about my mother’s best friend?

There were rumours that she was a witch.

I wouldn’t know.

I just remember that she was really good with tarot.

She always told you what you wanted to hear,

so, of course, you would wave it off

as too good to be true.

But then sometimes it would happen the way she’d predicted.

Not always, though, but sometimes was enough.

You can’t have good things happening to you all the time.

She baked the best chocolate cake and

I guess you could say it was bewitching,

but in a good way.

And there was that one time she convinced my parents 

not to go to the cinema,

but to stay in with her,

and she was baking those divine cheese rolls.

And it smelled so good at her place that my parents decided to stay.

And they had a great time, but still felt a little sorry about the cinema.

And then the next day they heard there had been a bomb at the cinema

and no one had survived.

Later she claimed that she’d simply wanted them to stay

and there was nothing more to that.

Yet, that one time I’d almost died, I’d dreamt of her the night before.

And she was already dead back then.

“Don’t come in here!” she said and I didn’t.

She didn’t want me to join her, well not yet, anyway.

And I didn’t.

Maybe that was a coincidence too, I don’t know.

So, I honestly don’t know if she was a witch or not.

I guess she could have been, after all.

GloPoWriMo Day 17