Let's Go Visit Your Witch

A hand shook Melvin awake. He murmured something softly, nothing but a few words of gibberish and opened his eyes. He peeled his lids back slowly, afraid that glare of sunlight would blind him, but it was dark outside the car windows. The rain still came down hard. Bridget placed her palm against his forehead and then moved to his cheek, checking for a fever.

"You feel ok?" she asked. Melvin nodded in reply.

"Much better," he said, and Bridget waited for him to faint again. This time he didn't. Bridget smiled.

"Then let's go visit your witch," she said.

They jetted out the car's doors, whisked through the sheets of rain and pushed their way into the witch's shop. Melvin didn't bother to ask how Bridget had gotten directions there or how the witch had discovered her number. After the revelation of the love juice, everything else was a moot point to him.

The shop was dim, the only light coming from a few tall metal lamps. The shades were pulled down, making the darkness outside darker. Melvin turned to check if the jar of eyeballs he'd seen on his first visit was still there. It sat where he remembered it; only it seemed to be less full. Melvin wondered if the witch had sold them or used them for some strange potion, maybe even another batch of her magical love juice. A chill shivered up his spine. The eyes left in the jar turned in unison to stare at him.

"Classy digs," Bridget said. Melvin turned to see her at a shelf on the opposite side of the store, a large jar held in her hands. The head of a large snake floated inside of it, the snake's fangs bared as if it had murder on its mind during its decapitation. Bridget put the jar back on the shelf and picked up an ancient looking book. She blew some dust off, opened the flesh-colored leather cover and thumbed through the pages.