A Puff of Roses
Joe Taylor
A medieval folk belief suggests this approach for shedding stray witches encountered upon the road: talk, make them argue with you; keep talking, about what makes no matter. This patter so angers any witch, the belief holds, that her true nature is revealed and she must scuttle off in frenzy.
"So what are you telling me?" John is asking Shelley this a second time. Shelley glares. From where John is standing inside his house and behind his screen door, Shelley's head seems to glow with an almost supernaturally greenish haze. The screen refracting sunlight couldn't do that, could it? he asks himself. John, a Kentucky restaurateur unsophisticated in medieval folk beliefs, has, let's say, a rough feel for fine things. Shelley, unable to rattle John off this one question or even get past his screen door, angrily twists her ruby ring, leaving it ominously inverted before trying once more.
"Just as I told you. I think that you should know what the two of them are up to."
