Amateur Hour

Amateur Hour

The dog was getting too close. A ugly yellow cur, a hound dog barking, baring its teeth.

“Stay away from me!”

This animal continued to push me to the curb. Someone came from a house nearby.

“Stay away and leave my dog alone!”

I ran home.

The next day I walked a different route.

Another dog came from a ramshackle mess of a house. This black bundle of evil descended on me like a hound from hell.

“Stay away from me!”

Nipping at my heels, I ran down the street. I lost angry dog at the 5th and 3rd corner

When I entered my house, my husband looked at me.

“Stay away from me.” He backed up, went to the bedroom.

“What is wrong with the world?”

The bathroom mirror reflected a woman’s face, green in color, with a big W on the forehead. Red snakes took the place of hair.

I backed away, then inched back up to look again. Was that me?

Then I remembered last night. I had words with Chloe, our daughter. She called me a ‘hateful witch’.

Surely not, I thought, as I marched up to her room. Sprawled on the bed, Chloe had her nose in that leather-bound book, candles lit, incense burning, dark as a tomb with the curtains pulled, lights out.

“Take it back!” I yelled at her.

“OMG Mom! It worked!” She laughed.

“Not funny! I warned you about this. You’re not ready.” I grabbed the book.

“I can’t take it back. I don’t know the reversal.”

“You put a spell on me without knowing how to reverse it?” I laughed in spite of myself. “That’s a cardinal sin. You ALWAYS have to know how to reverse it. ALWAYS!”

Chloe giggled. “You do look sorta cute.”

I sighed. Amateur hour.

W/C 300