Witchy Hut

Beatrice finally found a parking spot at the BLT supermarket. She sighed in relief. A moment later, a man parked his monster truck right next to her door. It was so close she had to crawl across to the passenger side to escape.

“You’re not supposed to park there,” she said to the driver.

He scoffed at her and walked away.

Beatrice pulled out her cell phone and chose the third number in her favorites list.

On the third ring an even toned voice answered, “Thank you for calling Witchy Hut, home of the sleeping curse. May I take your order?”

“I’d like one medium curse. Male, about 25, brown hair and blue eyes, drives a red and green monster truck.”

“Would you like to upgrade to a large curse for an extra dollar?”

“No, a medium will do.”

“Do you want a plague of locusts with that?”

“Just the curse.”

“That’ll be $12.75. Remember, if it isn’t delivered in 30 shakes of a nine-tailed kitsune, your order is free. Have a nice day, and thank you for choosing Witchy Hut.”

Copyright Joe Rover 2021. All rights reserved.

Until the next wormhole…thanks for reading!

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