We’re in the dairy section, on the hunt for banana yogurt because it’s the only one my child will eat. The child spinning out a new spell when someone blocks my view.
The lady’s eyes crinkle with concern. She nods at my daughter. “Why would you let her dress that way?”
“Huh? Oh.” I turn, regard the pointy hat, black cloak, the stick wand. “Clarice, dear. Why are you dressed that way?”
Clarice giggles. “Because I’m a witch, Daddy.”
I shrug. “Witch.” The lady shakes her head, tears off. I find the last of the banana.
*In response to the 99 word prompt at Carrot Ranch. March 5, 2020, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about Clarice. She can be any Clarice real, historical, or imagined. What story does she have for you to tell? Go where she may lead!
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