Witch

Wanda the good witch of Dublin as she styled herself plonked down on the steps of what used to be the Labour Exchange situated on a back street on Dublins Northside. Wanda found herself unemployed and was not happy. What was she supposed to do she wondered. Witches are a dying breed her mother had told her as she lay dying. Do what you can to keep the Witches Coven alive, she added. Did kids believe in Witches these days she asked herself. Wanda doubted it. Kids believed in technology from what she had learned so far. Wanda heard the cackle before her Grandma Witch appeared beside her on the steps. What are you doing here child? Haven’t you heard? no one wants Witches anymore. What are you talking about you silly child. No one believes in us anymore Grandma Witch. Mother asked me to keep the Coven alive. Your mother always had unortodox ideas. She was right, we are a dying breed. No child we are not there is always mischief to create. Grandma, kids and adults are into technology now. Into what? Grandma Witch asked. Technology, computers and such. That’s their magic. Is it now, well let’s see what we can do to help them along. Do you know this technology and how it works? A bit, Wanda said hesitantly. She was not eager to use her skills to create mischief, she was a good witch, wasn’t she? Although she had promised her mother to do what she could to save the Coven. Wanda’s Grandma grapped her hand and they disappeared. They landed in the bedroom of a teenage boy viewing internet sites he should not have been on when he was supposed to be studying. Grandma Witch moved to stand at the boys side. Don’t look Grandma Witch. Child I have seen more than you can even contemplate. Grandma Witch started muttering to herself and suddenly the boy jumped back from his computer, the noise and smoke filled the room. Now child let him see you, fix his computer then he will believe in us. Simple.