Housed and Fed

This is a short horror story based on a dream I had. If people enjoy it I might continue it as a series. Please enjoy!

You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress. Look at their clothing, their hair, the way the clothing fits to their body. It tells you all you need to know. You see a man with slicked hair, a nice tailored suit and a well fitted full length jacket. You know he is vain, professional and well off. You see a woman with flowing hair done up in a messy bun, a silken summer dress, and little flats on her feet. You know she is care free, ambitious, and summer bound.  You can tell a lot about a person by the way they dress. Sometimes it hides however and when clothing hides. It hides exactly what they want it to hide. Women use make-up to hide, men use their beards or hats. Witches use their magic. Witches are ugly nasty creatures. They are cursed by God himself, large noses, big eyes and dark colored teeth. They have blemishes and bumps. Some will look like their skin is melting from their face. Evil dark demonic witches. Their magic is good and they hide well. They can create the prettiest face matched with the perfect added make-up. Their magic is their concealer. If you see one you’d never know. They never falter, if they do it will be brief. Only a glance is what you’ll get. You may think your eyes are confused or tired. When they are comfortable that’s when they let their true selves out. Watch the faces, look for slight changes, that’s how you spot a witch. 

I lifted her up as I laid the pillow under her head. Edna was her name. She is 87 years old. Dementia had taken its toll. She’ll sit here all day and repeat the same story. “What happens to you when you see a witch, Edna?” Her eyes met mine. Deep blue knowledge stood behind a cataracted abyss. “You can tell a lot about..” I smiled a little sheepishly. I asked her the same question daily. “Have a good night Edna.” I patted her hand. I could still hear the story as I walked down the hall. I rubbed my neck as I put my scrubs in the locker. “Edna’s still repeating that same story.” Lawrence walked behind me as he spoke. “Can you believe it hasn’t changed once, I thought dementia made you forget everything?” I chuckled. “Maybe she has it written down.” Lawrence laughed, “How the hell does she remember where she put it.” I chuckled again. “At least we dress better now.” Lawrence nodded as he closed his locker, “And I look out for witches.” We both laughed. We started walking to our cars. The night air was chilly and fresh water sat on the road from a recent rain. “You want to grab a beer tonight?” Lawrence walked in a saunter, his car fob in his hand. “I can’t tonight, I have a date.” “A what?” Lawrence playfully hit me in the shoulder. “You have a date? You mean with your hand and a dream?” I push air through my nose for a laugh. “No a real date, hopefully. We met online.” Lawrence chuckled as he walked away. “Ok my man, have a good night. Tell her I say hi.” 

I looked at my watch, 5:30 pm perfect. I had 10 minutes. I walked up to the hostess. “Reservation for Gram, Frank Gram.” The hostess looked down at her book, “Table for two.” “Yes, that is correct.” She smiled, “Right this way Mr. Gram.” The table was kind of hidden; it sat back towards the kitchen entrance. It was a single circular table with a vibrant silver table cover and a beautiful candle display in the center. Two ornate silver chairs accompanied the table. I sat with my back to the kitchen and my face towards the entrance. I liked this restaurant, it was an upscale Indian restaurant. A different approach then what I’d usually pick but my date said she liked Indian and so did I. I should recognize her from her tinder photos. Ah and there she was 3 minutes early and even more beautiful then the pictures. Her dark hair sat short just above her shoulder, her eyes a striking emerald green, she had a broad but beautiful Jewish like dorsal nose. I always found that feature unique and captivating. Her lip gloss was a bright ruby red and her eyes were matched with stylistic dark mascara. She had on a black dress that hugged her hourglass frame well. She smiled when she saw me waving her over. She was by far the prettiest date I’ve had and I was amazed her pictures weren’t lies. She walked up and opened her arms inviting a hug. She smelt of lilacs and lavender. “Nice to finally meet you.” I said as she let go of the hug, “You’re stunning.” She smiled a beautiful white grin. “Nice to meet you too, you’re super handsome! And you do work out.” I laughed, “I try to.” I moved her chair so she could sit. I scooted my chair into the table. “How’s school going?” She looked over the drink menu. “It’s good, I can’t wait to be done.” “I bet, 7 years in college is too damn long.” She laughed, “You’re telling me.” She was a phd chemist or atleast working towards that end. I didn’t envy her. Our text talks had given us a lot of insight into each other’s life. “How’s work? Are you still looking for other jobs?” I nodded, “Yeah cleaning up after old folks isn’t really the dream job they said it would be.” She laughed. “Oh really? How could that be?” We both chuckled. “Hello folks, my name is Logan. I’ll be your server tonight. Can I interest you in some drinks and appetizers?” I looked across the table to signal her to go first. “Yes, I’ll have a glass of the white wine.” She looked back at me. “I’ll do your German pilsner and for the app, could we get the samosa chaat?” The waiter wrote down our orders, “Sure can do, I’ll have that right out. For dinner I highly recommend our house special curry. It’s very good and comes with our new peshawari naan. Something to think about while I grab your starter.” The waiter grinned and left. “Hmm sounds interesting, we will have to give it a look.” I nodded in agreement, “Yeah wonder what it has in it?” I barely raised my menu when our drinks were set on our table. “Great service,” She said as she raised her white wine and took a drink. I watched the rim touch her pretty red lips and as if in an instant her lower lip quivered and changed. I blinked and the lip was normal again. She set the glass down. Our eyes met and the hair on the back of my neck raised, one of her green eyes was now bigger? I rubbed my eyes. They were back to normal. Am I going insane?  “Are you ok?” She asked, “Yes, my eyes are itchy.” I felt like she sensed my fib. “Does that old woman still talk about spotting witches?” I felt my blood run cold. Why would she bring that up now? Our eyes met again and I could feel our souls connect. “Has she answered the question I told you to ask her?” She asked calmly with a smile. My mind was racing. I could feel cool sweat form on my lower back. “She just repeats the story. She doesn’t have or can’t remember the answer.” I tried to mutter while keeping my composure. “Maybe that’s what happens when you see a witch.” She said with a  giggle while taking another sip of her wine. She pointed a long finger in my direction, “I like you, we’ll get along great.” I took a trying gulp of my pilsner. “Why?” I said with hesitation. “Because you know how to spot a witch.”