The Witch Next Door

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I know that you are going to find this hard to believe, but I have a witch living in the house next door.  Now I know you are thinking that there may quite possibly be someone living next to me who practices witchcraft.  A lot of people do.  But of course their spells never work.


I definitely am not talking about that kind of witch.  I'm talking about a full-fledged, warty-nosed, Wicked Witch of the West type of witch.


She had lived next to me for six months before I finally found out for sure.  Oh sure, there were certain little things which made me kind of suspicious.  Take for instance her clothing.  Would any normal person wear a long, black, silk gown with a matching hat that comes to a point?  And another thing.  Who in this day and age still uses a broom to get around town?  I have no doubt that it gets great mileage.  But who wants to have all of the neighbors staring at you?


I didn't say anything to her about that.  So what if she was a little eccentric?  My Grandfather used to chase wild women at the beaches.  You wouldn't think anything was wrong with an 84 year old man having a little fun.  The only trouble was, he was pretty good at catching the ones he chased.


Getting back to my story, none of those things really made me think she was a witch.  What eventually gave it away was what happened on the day I had to go to her house to borrow a cup of sugar.  I needed the sugar to make some Kool-Aid which I always liked to take to work.


The first thing I did was to get my umbrella from the closet.  It wasn't raining on my house, but darned if I didn't get soaked every time I walked past her house  It seemed that her house was always in a constant state of downpour.


I walked up the rickety old steps to her porch and knocked on the door.  Slowly the creepy, weather worn door opened, a high screeching sound coming from the hinges.  The frail old woman spoke to me.


When I told her what I wanted she led me into the living room and told me to sit down while she got it.  She hobbled to the kitchen as I started to sit down on the dust covered divan, trying to avoid the cobwebs that surrounded it.  As I did, a black cat jumped out from behind me with a loud cry.  Soon thereafter, my neighbor came back with the sugar.  I stood up, thanked her, and bid her farewell.


"It's all my pleasure Sonny," she cackled.  I stepped outside, opened my umbrella, and headed for home.


I know that you are now wondering how that made me find out for sure she was a witch.  Actually, it didn't.  I found that out today at work while I was on my lunch break.  Just one sip of my Kool-Aid that was laced with witch sugar and boom.  That sugar changed me into a frog.  You don't know how difficult it has been for me to actually type this.  Take my advice.  Before you borrow sugar from your neighbor, make sure you know them well.  Extremely well!  Ribbit ribbit ribbit.


That one was certainly short and sweet.  In this collection, there are many stories that are only one or two pages.  I know the criticism will be that these are more like essays and not stories.  And you would be correct.  That is why I named the book "From the Writings of a Sailor," and not "From the Short Stories of a Sailor."

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