Witch Store

“I just saw the witch shop was open so I went in as an experiment”, Sal tried to explain to her friends afterwards.

The witch shop looked like a proper witch shop had to look like. It wasn’t a children’s Halloween store, although judging by the amount of cobwebs, it may very well have been. Instead, it was filled with various esoteric stones and herbs, candles, tarot cards, dream catchers, more candles and quite frankly, Sal wondered how it hadn’t caught on fire yet. The big chandelier in the middle of the room filled her with awe at first, but after a bit of debris from the ceiling fell into her eye, she hurried to not stand underneath it for too long. Then she saw the witch. Sal had seen criminals look like politicians, politicians look like space lords, space lords look like whores, whores look like princesses, princesses look like kings and kings look like criminals, but this witch looked like a witch had to look according to all rules of the imagination: Darkly clad, silver-haired, with a pompous hat that, no doubt, further added to the fire hazard, and a voice that…

“How can I help you?”, said the witch in a voice that might have belonged to a raven in an earlier life.
“Oh, nothing, I was just looking”, Sal replied.
“I am detecting a passing”, the witch looked straight through Sal.
“Well, no, I just got some dust into my eye when looking at the chandelier.”
“It’s not just your eyes”, the witch turned around and began looking for something, “this requires some more… advanced methods. Have you heard of necromancy?”
“Typically a shunned type of magic in pretty much all fantasy stories that allows you to talk to the dead, yes. But I haven’t had anyone die recently.”
“Not recently, that is correct. Please sit down in the magic circle.”
“I am not interested in buying a session of necromancy.” Sal saw through the witches disguise, she wanted to make her use a service and charge her afterwards. This might work with naive people, but not with Sal, not with one that…
“This part of the necromancy is free,” the raven voice said. “I always will tell you the price beforehand.”
“Okay…” Sal wasn’t really convinced that she wasn’t getting scammed somehow, but also was intrigued how necromancy would work outside of standard fiction contexts, so she decided to give the thing a try.

Sal barely had sat down in the circle as hot air started to be blown out of another magic circle in front of her.
“Oh,” the witch said and in the surprise lost her raven voice. “I hadn’t even started yet.”
The flickering hot air started to assume a vaguely human form and became more opaque and detailed.
“Where did you learn this?”, the witch asked.
“I’m not doing anything, I thought you had some pressure sensitive switch here that would start blowing out hot air forming a mirage.”
“I don’t have a… oh my.”

The figure had become solid, by the looks of it. It was another Sal, sitting in meditation. The other Sal looked up, light was shining from her eyes.
“What are you?”, Sal asked her other self.
“The question really is, what are you and how did you get in here?”, the other Sal responded in a somewhat echo-y Sal-voice.
“You are.. I think you are talking to your soul”, the witch had given up trying to sound like a raven and now sounded like a tired mother.
“How can that be my soul if I’m still alive?”
“I don’t know, my dear. Did you sign a contract with the devil per chance?”
“That might be it. I work for the Daily Mail.”