Larissa is giving away $10 GC to five commenters on the Tour
Belladonna is in serious trouble
The mob on the other side of the wrought iron fence wore no tri-cornered hats or starched bonnets. They didn’t brandish pitchforks or flaming torches. Hell, they didn’t even bring a preacher to drive the Devil out. Still, they had come to flush out a witch and the witch was me.
They were thirty all together, gathered outside my gate under the two California live oaks that shade the sidewalk in
midday. I had to squint into the still hot mid-October sun to study their unfamiliar faces. The mob included several dwarves. The youngest dwarf must have been in her forties, a tiny woman that for some reason wore a yellow, red and blue Snow White dress with an appliquéd picture of Snow White on the chest. She didn’t look like a typical dwarf: no classically high forehead and her arms and legs were proportionate. She was holding a fluffy purple teddy bear by a front paw and sucking her thumb.
In the sun my forehead sweated under the straw hat. A mocking bird’s harsh chirrup burst from the oak on the right, piercing as a car horn. I flinched.
I don’t much like or trust people in large groups - doing time in Greenville State Prison for Women had taught me that. In prison the exercise yard is the mostdangerous place to be: too many inmates in one area, too many chances to be
stabbed with a shiv made from a sharpened toothbrush handle or from melted and hardened Styrofoam cups.