Creative Writing: The Witch's House

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Kendall Osborne stared, standing ramrod straight, from the sitting room window at the two old bats glowering at her house, the witch’s house. That is what they called it: the witch’s house. Even before the Unveiling the people of San Francisco had called her home that. The women watching the house talked with their heads together as if they were whispering, but not so subtle in theiry gesturing to the pale blue house on the hill. Both were dressed dull apron-style day dress with tight bonnet and the flag shaped Ladies of the Standard pin on the callor. “How can they have any facial expression with bonnet that tight,” Kendall grumbled, but she knew she was just being grumpy because they lady’s league wants the city to take …show more content…

“Where can I reach you when I have it?” “I’m not sure. I was living with my miss but… I could stop by tomorrow.” “I would be surprised if I do not have it by then. I’ll see you tomorrow. My maid will see you out.” “But your payment.” Kendall had hoped to have snuck out without talking about money. Ms. Dow had just lost her employment Kendall but did not want to insult her. “I brought this,” Ms. Dow held out a worn change purse. Kendall took it and counted out the coins. “It’s a month’s wages.” Kendall shove the purse back. “I’m not taking a month’s wages for a day’s work.” Ms. Dow frown, flummoxed by the response. “But you’re a witch?” “Ladies of the Standard lies, and a few bad apples started rumors that all witches are money grubbers.” “The Ladies of the standard would hang all magically creatures if they could,” Betty spat. Kendal wondered by care of magic the woman had. She had to have some to be that …show more content…

There was a few lights burning inside and no one on the sidewalk: no gawker or newspaper men, more importantly no officers. The newsboy she had passed coming here shouted about more Morelocks in the east side dead. Dead magically night worker couldn’t hold a candle to a suicide of a stage star which means the news hadn’t gotten out. Kendall studied the house from across the street. People moved around her without noticing her so the glamour hid her well. Maybe the police have removed Genie and were gone. Yes her glamour was good well but trained observers, even without magic, could see through the haze of obscurity. Got it over with, Kendall said to herself. She touched Jade in her hair, and then galvanize, she crossed the street and walked up the path to the back door. It was unlocked with the window panel broken out, with glass on the steps. Odd. But Kendall set that aside the thought to focus on the job at hand. She conjured up the image in her mind and sent the image through the house and waited for the echo. Then waited for the echo. Kendall went further into house, wondering if the dairy was there. If it was in the city, she should have felt an echo. She felt out for the dairy with every other step and listened for the police with the

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