Not All The Witches.....

Not all the witches live in Salem. There at the supermarket stood Adriana, checkout chick. It was mid-winter, raining, sleeting, bitter wind blowing, as the sliding glass door opened right on time. Quivering in the draft swirling yesterday's rubbish flotsam over the darkening car park, Adriana sold her first packet of cigarettes and morning newspaper for the day.

Her eager clients waited for their fix. They swiped their debit cards, or some cash, then turned to their cars, coughing at their first gasper, reading the football latest gossip on the back page of their news. Adriana sold a plastic container of milk and more cigarettes to a yummy mummy, still in her pajamas with a fleecy hood. Her toddlers clinging to her legs, she had forgotten the milk again, needed her smokes at that hour of the day.

The eager batch of first clients drove off to their day. Adriana was experiencing cold chills, but it was winter. She did enjoy her job in the supermarket, she was a people type person. But she did wish for more. She was now thirty years old, a resident of this small suburb. She had been dating Dirk, the cute veggie boy for some time now, going nowhere in particular. They usually spent Saturday nights in bed, gazing at a movie, with a couple of drinks. Nothing too serious.

Dawn seemed later at this time of year, sleet spattered the windows. Rosalie strolled past, she had been Adriana's best friend since their secondary schoolgirl days. They had shared lots of fun along the way. But today, Rosalie seemed to be smirking, ignoring Adriana's wave and greeting. Rosalie had always hated Dirk, said he was not good enough for her pal.

An hour rolled by, a few customers, buying whatever they could afford, eking their pensions. Adriana noticed the usual teenagers strolling in. She braced herself for their normal sulk because they could not buy cigarettes. As the checkout chick, she had to tell them to leave their school bags at the front, before they went wandering around the shelves, stocking up on their food groups. None of them were getting malnutrition in their classrooms.

The young school girls were Adriana's fashion and garment police. Catty comments flowed. "I hope I never get as fat as her!" One lassie said at the top of her voice. Her friend said, "What does she think she looks like?" Adriana did wonder, as Rosalie seemed to laugh. Okay, their supermarket uniform was not the best. Adriana was regarded as pleasantly plump. The chilly winds blew harder, as the teens left for their academic world, not learning much at all.

"Little witches," Adriana muttered. "Welcome to the world ahead of you." Her phone pinged. She went and stood at the corner of the building, with her coffee, time for a break. Her mother was ailing, she had a life-threatening health condition. She had not long ago married Adriana's stepfather, a preacher man. He did preach hell so hot, very fiery. Not a happy second marriage for either of them.

Adriana believed in Vatican power, thought it could do with some chick power. She had planned to spend Saturday night with Dirk ,as usual. But he too sent her a text, stood her up. He was taking Rosalie to the movies. Adriana was dumped. Some best friend Rosalie was. Pair of cheats. Adriana shrugged, and returned to sell more cigarettes. That Rosalie was a real witch too. No, not all the witches lived in Salem, more than a few lived here in her little corner of the world.

The rain poured down, echoing her gloomy thoughts. By the time she went home, a brief glimmer of sun shone in the west. Her mother passed. She had been a real old battle ax, a Debby Downer. But she did leave Adriana an inheritance. Seeing the silver lining, Adriana realized she could finally follow her dream, and still be a people type person.

She was now a woman of independent means. Adriana had long treasured a belief that she could be a well-being therapist, if she could only train and qualify. So she resigned from her supermarket, turning her back on Dirk, the cheating prick. Adriana could now meditate on nurturing her body and soul, and focus on resonating healing with her touch and wise advice.

She enrolled in a suitable course, there was money to live on. After studying, she graduated as top student. Adriana joined a healing therapy clinic center, where she soon built up a steady and grateful group of clients. She was very successful, very talented. She healed with hands on therapy, and counselling for any issues. Within a year, she was glowing with gratitude. She no longer blamed herself for the past, she was a survivor.

Adriana thanked her lucky fortune, as she had found her true natural vocation. Feeling blessed, she turned the page on her past, and refreshed her self knowledge, an important gift. She was regarded by her clients as a shepherd of their little flock. One of her male followers was James. No, he was not tall, dark, and you know how that goes. But one morning, he brought her a gift of a sunflower, as bright as she was to him.

Next appointment, James gifted her a posy from his garden, simple and touching. A scented candle followed, he was trying to pitch his woo. A bit old-fashioned, but engaging. Adriana did not resist, attraction bloomed. Dinner dating followed. A kiss goodnight, hands touched. Romance. James turned into the royal prince of her heart, and all her tomorrows.

Adriana agreed to his proposal. She did finally send her former workmates at the supermarket a postcard from her luxury honeymoon, so idyllic. She never told James she had made her own personal love potion one evening. He was very devout, so she kept her chick power secrets very well. All Vatican friendly, of course. She never returned to that old suburb or supermarket. Rosalie and Dirk deserved each other.

Adriana had won her own wheel of fortune, first prize. James was the love of her life, a soul mate, and her fan. Some healing spells do work, so Adriana always held her husband's hand. Not all the witches live in Salem..........