Lily, Hazel, and
Brooke are on some real hot girl
shit, like witches do.

With fire rituals
and mixing batches of spells
in bubbling cauldron.

But the daily spells
are getting mundane. Lily
wants to stir the pot.

In a catty way.
She’s going to stir cauldron
to cause some drama.

She invents a new
spell to cast on Hazel’s long-
time boyfriend, Francis.

To make dear Francis
fall in love with Brooke instead.
The cauldron rumbles.

But the recipe
has a minor mistake: one
cat whisker, not two.

Plus, it was from a
mixed breed black cat, not purebred.
Ok, two mistakes.

Instead of falling
in love with Brooke, Francis falls
in a brook. And drowns.

His soul is full of
resentment. He vows to haunt
the brook forever.

_________________________________________________________________

Four hundred and ten
years later, three girlfriends have
trendy new hobbies.

Tarot cards, crystals,
sage, Palo Santo, candles,
full moon rituals.

The next full moon will
shine tonight. Beth, Janice, and
Pam are releasing.

A full moon is a
perfect time to release things
that do not serve you.

They are taking this
lunar cycle to the streets,
or the brook rather.

In their safe, sacred
place on the bed of the brook,
they fire, sing, and dance.

Francis is stirred. He
watches like a creep, plotting
his next, evil move.

But wait, this music
they are dancing to has a
sick beat. Listens on.

It’s much different
than baroque and classical
of his boring time.

Since the drowning, this
is the first time music has
been played at the brook.

Francis’ bitter
heart softens. The beauty of
the rhythmic beats shine.

He joins ritual
in human form, surprising
the three girls. Until…

He dances in an
odd, ballet style, but he’s fun
and harmless. They join.

This joyous movement
releases the resentment
from his unjust death.

This full moon release
shit really works! Francis is
overjoyed to tears.

As clouds pass over
and hide the light of the full
moon, Francis crosses.

To the spiritual
world. And the girls cross the brook
to go to their homes.

They go back the next
day hoping the mystic man
is there. He is not.

“Who was that guy?” Pam
asks aloud as a tree branch
snaps and dangles down.

Revealing answer.
“This dead, tagged tree almost hit
us!” They don’t get it.