The Witch Performs A Curse.
(Miles and the Glowpus Part IV) The witch’s house was very unwitchlike—at least, that was what Miles always thought whenever he had occasion to visit. Stories made him think that a witch’s home should be rather more in shambles, than quaint and put together. Too, it should be, he thought, covered in chicken’s feet as opposed to warm wood, and smelling of things most unpleasant, rather than the uplifting scent of cinnamon, dried herbs, and the occasional whiff of sweet smelling flowers. The witch’s unwitchly display was made complete by the fact that she happened to serve the most delicious tea in the whole of the Enchanted Forest. Rarely, however, did she serve tea in the middle of the night, for also unlike the witches of tales who stirred foul brews into the wee dark hours, she spent her nights asleep. It was a rather groggy woman who answered the door to three fearful faces, who all proceeded to speak at once. ‘Slow down,’ sh