An Old Lady Told Me I Had Moved Into A Witch's Coven

An old lady told me I had moved into a witch's coven. 'Good!' I replied, 'I hope they can cast a good luck spell for me.'

This had been one of the most painful days I could remember, even more painful than discovering that Jeff was having an affair.

Twenty four years of dutiful acceptance and should I say complete faithfulness to a man who was what could only be described as a habitual adulterer once would have been enough but to find out he had been at it FOR MOST OF OUR MARRIAGE the pain and humiliation was almost too much to bear. Now here I was, late forties, my two children settled at each end of the country happily I can say as I managed to protect them from too much upset and sadness.

Jeff said it was not my fault I was a good wife and it was all his fault. I did not answer, I just got my best pair of kitchen scissors and cut up all his clothes. There were other things I could have cut off but I stopped at the clothes.

I am now in this nice little cul-de-sac at my nice bungalow which I have bought due to my knee and hip replacement. Osteopsorosis is a ravager of bones and I can't do stairs.

I am looking forward, as my mum used to say, be careful what you wish for but surely a little magic isn't too much to ask. Maybe I'll get a visit from the head witch wouldn't that be interesting?