Maxwell, the cat from Hell, sat between Monica Snapjaw’s legs as she faced-off the old woman on her porch. They stared at each other through the glass of the storm door that remained closed at all times. Mrs. Snapjaw kept her arms crossed in a defensive posture. Maxwell just blinked complacently at the old woman, Miss Helgar.
“Miss Helgar, you go on home now. Your daughter is probably worried sick about you,” chided Monica a little too loudly.
“I’m tellin’ ya, Monica Snapjaw!” Cried Miss Helgar in anguish, pausing to draw on her pipe, then blowing the smoke into the glass of the storm door. It formed a tiny, sideways mushroom cloud. The morning air was that still. “There be witches in Harwood Swamp! Every month, they gather in the moonlight to dance and sing the praises of the Evil One!”“Slam the door in that crazy woman’s face,” laughed Maxwell to Monica. “It’ll serve her right!”
“Oh, just be quiet!” Snapped Monica. “I’m trying to talk here!”
“Well, excuse me, Mrs. Monica Snapjaw,” humphed Miss Helgar. She popped her pipe back into her mouth, gave Monica the finger, and then turned and retreated from the Snapjaw porch, slamming the screen door behind her.[Author’s note: I had a lot of fun with this challenge. The swamp photographs were taken the day before yesterday; that is, January 30 of last year! I experimented with different kinds of sepia tones. Is there one you may prefer over the others?]