The witches came in all shaped and sizes. Some looked cheerful and expectant. Some looked fierce and determined. Some chattered to their neighbours, some didn’t. Some were all dressed up, and some were a total mess and clearly didn’t care. All were armed with a variety of serious-looking shopping bags.
I had random.org select a page, it decided on 91, since that was an illustration I added +1 on the page number.
But even as she worried about the Spellatron 3000’s failing magic, she felt in her element behind the counter. She would never admit it to her dad, but it ws more fun working a shop that sold speels rather than screws. There were pink sparks and rains of little blue stars. Things fizzled and twinkled and went off with a bang. There were strange smells.
Let’s start with the Witch in the Woods.
Only children could find her, the Witch, led by foxes faintly glowing in the darkness between sleeping and waking. Together they traveled through dreamland until they came to an archway like an eye half open, big enough only to crawl through.
Beneath the stars, the moon a bouquet of blue-violet bruises, the Witch lived in a castle with turrets of unnaturally thick tree trunks and broad walls of entwined branches and leaves, the battlements formed by the oversize molars of some unfathomable animal. The crisscrossed bones of the portcullis gleamed in the milky midnight light as the drawbridge of melded cloven hooves lowered over rushing river.