HayWitch

Chapter Two.  The Sting. 

It was dinnertime again.  His wife sat across from him, oblivious to his awakening.  His children were occupied with their plates.  He began to cry.  "Pass daddy the milk, Theodore." 

"Who are you people?  What do you want?"

"Dont you know?  We're your family.  You love us.  We're here for you".

"Stop it!  Tell me what this is about?  What's real here?  What's real?  Is it my organs in the refrigerator.  Am I the leftovers?"

"Yes". 

"Oh my God!  And the..that bag of bones or whatever it is, is it feeding on me? "

"Yes".

"So you're witches, and I've been captured?"

"Yes".

"What's real in my life?  the hits.  the postcards?"

"Nothing is real in your life.  It's all what we let you imagine.  You're a fool."

"Why are you in disquise now?  Why not just be as you really are.  Let yourself be shown."

"He's right, it takes too much energy to put up these visages". 

there was a flash, and he saw them for what they were: creatures.  ugly horrid creatures.  not even interesting creatures, just plain old hairy witches.  They all looked at each other.  Not a word was spoken.  He got up and looked in the refrigerator and noticed the new leftovers.  He felt weak.