A Witch in the Pantry: ... and other Stories

She was a witch. I was sure of it …

Our friends liked the witch. No-one else had a witch in their house or a pantry like ours. They were taken by her individual choice of clothes, her strange accent.

They would telephone just to hear her voice and then put the phone down, only to repeat the process a few minutes later ... but felt short-changed if they did not engage her in conversation or hear her infectious laugh, which would make her generous bosom take on a life of its own …