A Witchy Brew

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"But, I'm not a witch."

That was the third time Melody had said those words in this conversation with the professor.

He countered with, "You still haven't explained how you know certain things---"

"Intuition is what I've said and what you don't want to believe..."

"Fine, let us, just for the sake of argument, say it's intuition. How did you develop such finely tuned intuition?"

"I didn't develop it, I've just always had it..."

"Nobody just happens to have well-developed, precise intuitions..."

"Mr. Johnson, why are there so many things you disbelieve out of hand? You're supposed to be a professor of philosophy. Is it normal for a philosopher to disbelieve in intuition but believe in witchcraft?

"This interview is over." He stood up abruptly and walked out of the cafe.

Melody stared after him and sighed... She was glad his interview was over. But, she knew he'd involve other people.

Her problem was still bubbling...

Mr. Johnson's wife had been scared out of her wits when Melody had warned her about a possible fire in her house.

Mrs. Gloria Johnson had invited the philosophy students to her home for tea.

Melody didn't know why she'd mentioned Gloria's heating system and asked if it was malfunctioning.

The professor's wife had asked her how she knew and Melody said, "I just wondered...".

Then, she told Mrs. Johnson that she should have it checked because of the fire hazard.

Melody hadn't felt she had to tell the woman that all her intuitions were, as far as she'd checked, able to be backed up with rational reasons for her seemingly magical perceptiveness.

When the fire was on the local news, Melody had a premonition that trouble would brew up swiftly.

Mr. Johnson had brought it near the boiling point.

In the early part of his interview, he'd mentioned his discussing her with the bishop...

Melody decided to do some research.

She'd lived in Cornwall for three years, attended Truro and Penwith College for one year, knew nothing much about witchcraft---just that she was nothing like anything she'd ever heard about witches.

But, she thought more knowledge could help if Mr. Johnson and the bishop decided to get nasty.

A quick Google search let her know that many witches called themselves Pagans---she searched further...


She met Mary Worth---member of the Pagan Federation---at the Cafe.

She was reading from a pamphlet Mary had given her about the Federation's "Three Principles":

"Do what you will, as long as it harms none. Recognition of the divine, which transcends gender. Acknowledging both the female and male aspect of Deity."

She'd never been what folks called religious. She wasn't even sure if she was spiritual.

"Mary, would you call Paganism a church?"

"Well... I think so; but, some Pagans have a problem being put on par with organized religions."

"Like Catholics..."

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