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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Fantasy · #1971306
You are a 25 year old man who is experiencing the most weirdest day of his life.
This choice: A mother  •  Go Back...
Chapter #4

A mother

    by: Unknown
You'd barely had time to open the door before a booming voice filled your appartment. "Howdy neighbor, I heard yer' new to these parts!" While you were still trying to recover from the flashbang of a voice that had gone off inches from your face, you are nearly thrown off your feet as a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic and topped with a red bow was shoved into your center of mass.

Looking up from the cookies, either gingersnaps or molasses cookies with bright red smiley faces drawn on in frosting, you saw a slightly embarrassed looking woman somewhere in her early to mid forties standing in your doorway. While you couldn't be certain that she was a mother, what with there being no children of obvious parentage present, she gave off such strong motherly vibes that you'd all but bet your life on her having at least one child, and probably more than 2. Short, curvy, out of shape but not to a medically concerning degree, with light brown hair tied into a simple ponytail with some errant strands hanging out here and there, and wearing frumpy but comfortable clothes that were easy to slip into and out of, she looked like a composite of every mother you'd ever known. This matronly composite included the doting, as she said "Sorry, I didn't hurtcha did I? We don't see many new faces 'round here, and I guess I got a little overexcited."

"No, not hurt at all. Thanks for the cookies." You said, raising and lowering the plate appreciatively. "Gingersnaps?"

"With frosting?" She asked, recoiling at the absurdity of your remark. "No, molasses. Hope that's okay, I didn't wanna make anythin with nuts in it n'case yer allergic, but chocolate chip seemed a mite cliché."

Rather than pointing out that you had never seen anyone put frosting on a molasses cookie either, you said "Yeah, molasses is great! Thank you, Ms..."

Her arm twitched, the woman obviously resisting the urge to slap herself in the forehead. "D'oh, forgot the gosh darn formalities! Way to go Daisy!"

"Daisy?" You asked, setting the plate aside and extending a hand to shake.

"Roberts. Daisy Roberts." She said, grabbing your hand and shaking it like it owed her money. "And your name is...?"

"John Doe." You answered.

The shaking abruptly stopped, Daisy giving you a look like she was waiting for the punchline to an unfunny joke. "John Doe?" She repeated.

You nodded. "My parents had an odd sense of humor."

Releasing your hand and chuckling dryly, Daisy said "Well alrighty then, Mr Doe, it's a pleasure to meetcha! So, what brings ya to this town? Needed to see the magic for yerself?"

"I-" You were about to explain that you had no particular reason for moving here, but the housing prices were insanely low and your parents were just plain insane so you moved here right out of college and never looked back. Instead, however, all you said was "Magic?"

Daisy blinked in surprise. "You mean you don't know? About our town's whole gimmick?"

"...No? Frankly, I didn't do a lot of research on this place before moving here. I just saw that both the rent and violent crime rate were really low, and those were the only two criteria I cared about." You answered.

Daisy clasped her hands in front of her face and giggled like she was four instead of forty, and said "Aw man, you really have no idea! Well then, allow me to show you why this place is called Witchtown!"

Daisy then...
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