Secrets of a Midlife Witch by J. C. Yeamans

Author:J. C. Yeamans [Yeamans, J. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Reed Shore Press
Published: 2022-06-26T22:00:00+00:00

Agnes Pritchard, Bearsden’s out-of-the-closet witch, skulks around the store in her black cardigan and floor-length skirt, picking items at random. She sniffs at herbs, grumbles, and puts them back. Shane says she never steals, but being new to all this witchery, I’m inclined to not trust her. It’s five minutes to closing, and she’s still not come to the counter. I arrange the pens in the skull cup, waiting for Shane to arrive and kick her eccentric ass out.

“Is there anything special you’re looking for, Ms. Pritchard?” I ask, tapping my fingernails on the counter.

Agnus turns her head with a glaring stink eye in my direction. “Nooo.” Her long, salt and pepper hair hangs in different lengths, with shorter strands swooping across her face. It’s impossible to discern her features other than a short, narrow nose and some tattoos on her wrinkled arms. It’s no surprise kids make fun of her for being a witch.

The new bamboo door chimes clank when Shane enters wearing jeans and a black hoodie showing the phases of the moon across the front. “Nice to see you, Agnes. You’ve got one minute before I lock you in!”

“Hmph.” She throws the cinnamon sticks back in the basket. “I’ll come back tomorrow.” She makes her way to the door, sliding her feet, and exits.

“Aghh.” Shane locks the door behind her, and I press my face into a pucker. “That woman makes me want to tear my hair out!”

Shane laughs, pulling at his beard. “She’s an odd one, for sure. We’ve tried multiple times to invite her back to the coven. Leslie says she’s been a hermit for years after dropping out back in the late '60s. There’s a history there Leslie never talks about.”

“She doesn’t appear to be the collaborative type,” I say with a hint of sarcasm.

“For sure.” He scratches the bald spot on his head. “How would you like a swift lesson on the use of crystals? We all have our specialties, and crystals and stones are a love of mine.”

“Sure.” I flip the sign from open to closed and follow him to the crystal room, expecting him to show me the secret to the scheme he has installed. Standing over the large, vertical crystal display, I wave my hands, and they light up as they did the first time. I snicker at Shane’s sham. “At least tell me what you have connected to these.”

Shane cocks his head and pets the whiskers on his face. “Nothing, Gwyn. You’re lighting them, darling.”

I stare at the glittering crystals. “I don’t understand. My energy causes them to light up?”

“Of course. Without an intention, you’re igniting them without purpose, so to speak. You must concentrate on an intentional use in a spell or ritual to be effective. I sell the large crystals mostly to Unremarkables. I charge way more than I should, but they buy them anyway. You’re better off having a small box with a collection of many. They don’t have to be fancy.”

I lean my head. “Zoe used that term, Unremarkables.

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