I love this house, thought Tabitha. And I especially enjoy sitting on the porch with him. The old house with gleaming wood floors and molding, the porch large with comfortable cane chairs and colorful throw cushions. Early summer sunshine warmed her arms and a slight breeze rustled the leaves in the bushes by the side of the home. And best of all, sitting across from her, Andrew, the man of her dreams.
Now he looked at her as if expecting a response to something he said.
“Wake up sleepyhead. What do you think of the plan?”
She jerked herself to attention, took a sip of her ice tea and replied. “I’m sorry this spot is so serene that I get lost. Yes that is the plan we agreed on. Now, how do we implement it?”
They had been discussing the elimination of Guillaume Pelletier, also known as Bill, Andrew’s nemesis. Tabitha didn’t speak French but she knew in English Guillaume translated as William.
She loved to look at Andrew Goode whom she had recently met; she longed to run her fingers through his long, blonde hair and to kiss his lips that tasted of the sea. But she resisted the urge. This was not the place or the time. As she appraised his face and hunky body she noticed the gleam in his blue eyes seemed different. He slouched in his seat rather than his usual posture of legs crossed and a straight back. She had never seen him drink alcohol before, his normal beverage of choice was ice tea, yet today he drank whiskey.
“Bill thinks he’s master of the universe,” Andrew commented with a strange smile, one side of his mouth lifted higher than the other. His facade appeared almost, well, evil, but that was absurd. Andrew was a good man, despite his condition.
He was Andrew whom she loved and who loved her in return and together they would destroy Bill and live happily ever after.
Andrew poured another drink from the bottle and replaced it with a plunk on the glass table by his elbow. “He looks down on people with a scowl that never leaves his face as if he thinks they’re his personal property like bugs who on a whim he can squish.”
She nearly gagged at the raw odor of the spirits, but agreed with his assessment of their enemy.
Tabitha rose from her seat and moved to the other side of the veranda smoothing her long red hair out of her eyes. “I have something that may help.” She lifted an object from the floor in the corner and brought it to her chair. “My great grandmother taught me about these,” she gently cradled the precious straw manikin. “They have power and if placed in just the right spot at just the right time, Bill’s power will be diminished.”
Tabitha was learned in witch craft and knew about such maters.
The amulet she wore around her neck burned her skin. Her thoughts stilled. Something was not right. On such a perfect day with her lover on his idyllic porch, there was no reason for the charm to send a warning.
Shocked she focused on Andrew Goode sitting across from her. All the clues had been before her though she had not wished to recognize them, so engrossed in admiring her lover.
Bill sat in place of Andrew on the cane chair with the dark blue cushion, the glass of amber liquid in his hand, and on his face that lop sided smirk.
“My ancestors were witches too and obviously better than yours.”
Blogophilia Week 20.6 – Master of the Universe
(Hard, 2 pts): Incorporate a hyperbole
(Easy, 1 pt): Include a corn dolly