There should have been a new orange and gold swirled marble up there.
“I’m in the back Jade!” Sandra called out.
The beaded curtain made a rustling clicking sound as I pushed it aside and stepped into the back office area of the shop. An electric kettle steamed, and Sandra bustled about with some mugs.
“You’re going to need some strong tea after that,” she said, her back still to me.
I watched as she squeezed a plastic honey bear bottle, streaming the sweet viscous amber ooze into one cup, and then the other one.
“I think we might want something stronger than tea,” I chided.
We waggled a small metal flask at me. “One step ahead of you.”
I laughed as I leaned against the counter next to where she worked. I watched in silence as she poured the steaming water from the electric kettle through a diffuser of loose tea into a funky ceramic tea pot. While the teas steeped, she returned to the mugs and added a tip from her flask.
“Whiskey?”
“Rum,” she said with a definitive nod. She then poured steaming hot tea into each mug. She handed me a mug. Holding hers in two hands she headed back out into the shop. “Let’s go sit.”
The metaphysical shop had an eclectic mix of offerings. On one hand she carried gifts for the seasonal tourist, locally crafted jewelry and ceramics, a healthy blend of Native American crafts from the Wind River Reservation, and local hippy artists. On the other hand the shop was loaded up with crystals, incenses, and if you knew about the back room, penis and yoni shaped candles. After all, it was a witch’s shop.
My favorite part, and the favorite part for many locals, were the overstuffed comfy chairs. Sandra could often be found sipping tea, reading a book, knitting, or chatting with friends— new ones and old.
Sandra kicked off her shoes and curled into the chair, tucking her feet underneath her.
I sank into the other chair. Easing back in to the comfort, my entire body relaxed, as if it were a physical sigh. A sip of the hot, sweet tea, added to the release of tension, especially after the initial kick from the rum.
I looked at Sandra over the rim of my mug. She seemed focused on her drink, as if there hadn’t been a major magical mix-up moments earlier.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Oh don’t mind me,” I said.
“Shush dear, I’m gathering my thoughts.”
She was gathering her thoughts? How? Mine were like squirrels on cocaine in a trampoline shop. All over the place, and everywhere. Maybe I should try to gather mine in as well. But my magic felt frizzled. Of course that thing with Dylan wasn’t helping any.
“You need to set aside your thoughts on the Hill boy for a moment. He’ll still be around even if you don’t think about him,” Sandra said softly.
I stared at her for a moment. I didn’t need to know how she pulled those thoughts from me. I was probably broadcasting them. She was right, I needed to set thoughts of Dylan aside. I closed my eyes and breathed in the aroma of the tea. I picked out the undertones of the tea leaves. Familiar and round I recognized the scent. It was something we had at home a lot. I couldn’t quite separate it from the rum, or the honey.
“Focus on the warmth as it washes over your face.”
I breathed in the tea, and let Sandra’s words relax me into a relaxed state.
“When were you first aware of the demon?” were the last words I could identify as her’s.
I felt the rattle boom, but it didn’t alarm me. I knew this was all a memory.
What do you do when your imaginary friends start pestering you with images of sexy male strippers and hot were-shifters? You write stories about them. Well, that's what I did! Oh, and then I combine them and toss them in a kilt for good measure!
Hi, my name is Lulu and I write sexy hot contemporary and paranormal romance. Welcome to my website.
Making the Para "Normal" and the Supernatural Extraordinary.