Word count: 139
Waking
up to find a large, hungry, and somewhat confused bull shark hanging
above the bed was not an every day occurrence for Ethel Higginbotham.
The traditional saying was that it was raining cats and dogs, so she
knew her magic was going a little out of control when, after a night
spent dreaming of her previous incarnation as a mermaid, it became
apparent that it had instead been raining sharks and whales.
Ethel
was easily the oldest in her coven, and this kind of thing - dreams
taking control of a witch's abilities and bleeding through into
reality - was usually an early sign of dementia, although she hadn't
heard of it being quite so dramatic before. Or, given the proximity
of such a large mouth full of so many rows of very sharp teeth, quite
as terrifying.
Love it!
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