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It's cold and windy outside and Zain is almost glad when he makes it to the butcher's, going inside and pushing his damp hoodie off his hair. He runs a hand through his hair, muttering a polite 'good morning' and steps up to the counter.

There is a gaggle of women standing in front of him, busy chatting with Mrs Jones behind the counter, so he knows he will have to wait until they finish their daily chat.

"He must be a witch," Mrs Jenkins says, pushing her basket slightly up the glass. "Josefine says she caught him swimming yesterday, down in the river where she always takes her dogs-"

"I told her not to go there, there is always strange folks running around," Mrs Hussain interrupts, shaking her head.

"Yes, I think she learned her lesson," Mrs Jenkins nods. "She says he was bathing naked, naked! in public! and she saw his nipples! Four of them! Can you imagine!"

"Four?!" Mrs Jones and Mrs Pritchard exclaim in sync.

"Definitely a witch," Mrs Hussain nods, seriously.

Zain holds back a snort and looks down before they can see his grin.

"My Rhys," Mrs Pritchard continues. "He went past the cottage yesterday and he says there are at least two cats running around that house now, and he's started on the garden, but no flowers, just herbs!"

"Zain!" Mrs Hussain says, catching sight of him. "Have you seen the new one in the cottage? It's right up the lane from yours, isn't it?"

"Yes," Zain says with a slight nod, running a hand through his hair. "But we just saw the moving van go past. A witch would be nice having, though, wouldn't it?" he adds. "What with the doctor being so far away." He still has nightmares about the drive to the hospital when Doniya had to have her appendix taken out, and how she'd screamed in agony and there had been no pharmacy or doctor anywhere close by to ease her pain.

"You're such a sweet boy," Mrs Jenkins says, shaking her head ruefully. "Witches make a lot of trouble, dear. When I was young, we had two sisters in the village and they were always up to something. Once there were no births in the whole village for two whole years. And then men started disappearing. You need to be careful, Zain," she adds, looking at Zain sharply. "They don't like men, especially the young unmarried ones. They say they use their bones for potions and eat their meat for strength during new moons."

"That's nonsense," Mrs Hussain says, shaking her head. "They don't eat people," she tells Zain seriously. "But they do not like men, my sister-in-law's sister, they've got a witch in their village as well, and a young man has disappeared just recently. Of course," she says, looking back at her friends. "The police do nothing, claims he ran away. Perfectly respectable family, who is supposed to believe that. But there are so few witches these days, they want to be sure. Like they couldn't just solve the issue by making sure we actually have a doctor in town. If we had, who would need a witch at all."

"Right," Mrs Pritchard nods.

"What do you need, then, Zain?" Mrs Jones takes pity on him, as the other continue to swap stories about all their family and friend's experiences with witches.

"Beef bones, for broth," Zain says, glad that he will be able to leave them to their gossip soon. "And chicken breast and beef mince."

🌿

it's your fault. you know who you are. but i couldn't resist so let's start another wip 🤦🏻‍♀️

the witch next door [zarry] ✔️Where stories live. Discover now