Following the Witch

She stood staring at the two quaking teens. Her posture may have been stooped, but her countenance demanded respect. The two teens stood up slowly, wide eyes riveted on her.

“You seek Mama Maggie.” It was a statement, not a question. JoAnn gulped and nodded. Cal reached for her hand.

“You have a big problem.” JoAnn’s eyes got wider, if that was possible, and she squeaked out a “Yes!”

“Hm.” The old woman beckoned them to follow her with a crooked hand. She led them into the woods. They stumbled after her, tripping over tree roots, ducking under ow branches, and having twice as much trouble than the old woman who ghosted before them.

In a clearing there sat a tiny old trailer, it’s axle half sunk into the ground, four concrete bricks holding up the four corners. In front there was a fire and over it, a large cauldron. Steam was rising from it and the two teens held their breath to keep from smelling it.

She beckoned to a log and they sat, woodenly and clinging to each other.
“Tell Mama Maggie,” she croaked

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