Posted in Fiction, Flash Fiction

Shango, the Witch, & the Wand by Jean M. Hodges

Shango had been snoozing in his car seat in the city junkyard when the witch banged on his window.

“Hey!” they yelled, banging on the glass. “Hey! Hey!  Hobo, hey!”

Shango rolled over in his bed in the back seat, sticking his tongue out at the witch before rolling over on his belly, giving them his ass.

After that, the Witch disappeared from the side of his car, and after a few minutes of silence, Shango almost thought that they’d decided to leave him alone for the night.

Almost. But he knew better.

Grumbling as he pushed himself up from his car seat, Shango stretched before reaching over and opening the car door in front of him, not surprised to see the Witch taking a screwdriver to his tires.

“What is it?” Shango asked, slumping his shoulders in defeat.

The Witch smiled, dropping the screwdriver back into the gigantic pocketbook they always carried with them, standing up to face the sleepy youth in front of them.

“I lost my wand, help me find it.”

Stretching his arms out, Shango phased through through his car door before plopping on the metal-filled ground with a hard, transparent thud, right by the Witch’s bare feet.

“Alright, where do we start?”

*~* They found wand stuck with along with the other garbage in a pile of abandoned baby stuff; toys never played with and shoes never worn.

“We square?” Shango asked the witch, and they grinned, nodding vigorously.

Shango smiled. “Good. And hey! If you need somewhere to sleep during a hurricane, my car’s always open.”

The Witch’s smile faded off their face as they gazed in surprise at the back of the young ghost, watching in silence as Shango floated back to the junkyard pile of the landfill graveyard.

Looking back at them with a mischievous smile, Shango added,

“Just bang.”

THE END

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Author:

Writer, poet, storyteller, and professional time waster

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