The Witches of Waverly

“You know there are witches in Waverly, don’t you?” said Petunia Smallwood.

“Pet, I wasn’t born yesterday. If there were witches here, I’d be the first to know. That’ll be 5p for the hard rolls, if you please,” said the baker.

Outside the shop, Petunia giggled. “It worked! The charm of disbelief worked,” said the girl.

Later that night, she met her coven sisters at her grandfather’s observatory. After he passed away, Petunia inherited the house and the star tower.

“What a beautiful view from up here, Petunia,” said Agnes.

“I remember Pa Pa bringing me here over summer break to scan the stars. Now we can use it for our meeting without anyone knowing,” explained Petunia.

With fire lit, the four dancers circled the flames as they paid homage to sister moon.

“Heaven’s light bring us peace to this weary land. Let no man strike another in fury. Goddess of the sky, help those who suffer at the hands of cruel, heartless men,” chanted the witches.

As the moon passed its zenith, the dancers collapsed from exhaustion. Lying on the deck of the observatory, the witches gazed into the night sky.

“It’s so free up here. Thank you for sharing this with us, remarked Tilsa.

“I’m not sure Pa Pa would approve, but then again, he always loved the moon as we do,” said Petunia.

The next morning, Petunia went to the baker for her bread. “I saw some witches dancing up near the old observatory last night. Did you hear anything?” asked the girl.

“You and them witches again. Not a word. If I do, you’ll be the first to know,” said the baker with a wry smile.

Petunia thanked the lady and skipped home, knowing her coven was safe from prying eyes.

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