Gretchen picked her way over the dewy lawn with her dressing gown held close and a mug of tea in hand. She stopped to pick up the newspaper and hustled back inside to the warmth of the hearth. At least this delivery hadn’t been left in a puddle, though she was sure the lad that made the rounds wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
She settled into her favourite armchair and tucked her legs under her rump before spreading the paper on her lap. Starting at the back where the more interesting tidbits were, she leafed through the pages until her eye caught on a small classified. She sucked in a sharp breath and it all came flooding back.
That night with the last bottle of double distilled witches brew. It had seemed like such a clever idea at the time. She scrunched the paper in her fist, panic rising in her belly, beyond mortified at the implications. Exhaling, she gripped the armrests and took long measured breaths.
It looked like she’d have a long day ahead of her if she had to pilfer every copy distributed among her friends and acquaintances.
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