The Witches Curse

https://amazon.com/author/tdcooper
http://www.tdcooperbooks.com

The Witches Curse

The day was done. I yawned and closed my eyes, settling into the oversized barrel chair that swallowed me into its cushions. The fire crackled and danced in the hearth, spreading warmth into the room. 

Granma gently tapped me on the shoulder. She handed me a steaming cup of hot chocolate, not the kind made from a package and water, but the old-fashioned kind made from real whole milk and Hershey’s chocolate syrup. It smelled delicious. 

I blew the steam away, bringing the cup ever so gently to my lip and slurped. “Oh, this is really good and just what the doctor ordered. Thanks, Granma,” I said with a big exhale and smile. 

“You’ve earned it, and after the long day of chopping wood, I thought marshmallows were in order,” she said, dumping a handful of the tiny puffy treats into my cup.

“Happy New Year!” I said and held my mug up to Granma, where she clinked hers to mine softly.

“Happy New Year! I’m so glad you came to live with me after your mother disappeared. We need each other, and I love you fiercely,” Granma said and kissed my forehead before she sat in the matching overstuffed chair.

“I love you too, and thank you for standing up for me. I pray that mom finds her way back.”

“Amen!”

We sat quietly in front of the fire, sipping our cocoa, “Do you think nature will align and open the portal so she can come home tonight?” I asked, recalling the witch’s curse that had been cast over our family.

“It has been ten years, and every New Year’s Eve, I make cocoa with marshmallows, sit before this fire, and wait to see if a thunderstorm will strike exactly at midnight,” Granma explained.

“I don’t think it will be this year. The sky was clear and bright all day,” I said and sighed. Granma nodded. 

“Here we go with the countdown, six, five, four,” Granma said as the big clock in the hall chimed. 

Just then, the front door flew open with the last stroke of the grandfather clock. I jumped up and ran for the entry, the wind blowing dead leaves and dirt in a whirlwind into my face. Granma followed. “Is it the witch?” I asked, shielding my eyes and out of breath.

I heard Granma gasp. My vision cleared, standing before us was the witch, and behind her was a flash of lightning with the loudest clap of thunder I’d ever heard. “Who is it?” I screamed.

“The Tart has returned,” Granma whispered and fainted onto the floor.

https://amazon.com/author/tdcooper
http://www.tdcooperbooks.com