A Small Town Witch Teaches the Fine Art of Sorcery

No one listens to what she doesn’t say. That’s her art—the tacit spell. She can curse anyone without a word spoken, and this serves her well. Her specialty is justice, the distribution of retribution. Take the neighbor on the corner, the one who revs his monstrous truck’s engine when decent people are asleep, or should be. Tires go flat, fluids leak, belts fly off. No reason. Just happens.

She’ll tell you if you really want to know. You don’t, but she would. The secret of sorcery lies in plain sight, ripples with gooseflesh on bare arms or quivering chin in the bumpy night. Her life is a how-to manual, complete in two sentences: Smile them on their way. Trust karma to do the heavy lifting.

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