“To the witches in the woods behind the middle school” by Natalie Hennessy

I have become aware of your presence:

Because two weeks in a row the milk turned sour, curdled and stinking with heat even though it had been properly stored
Because I developed two rashes, one at my collar and one over my heart, each of which peeled like sticky paper after a day
Because my cats howl, agonized, longing nightly, even as they move through doors freely, and I can do nothing to soothe them

To each of these I am the only witness; my
sons saw and heard nothing and the fruit flies
denied everything.

I have received this offer of membership and have decided to accept. My qualifications are as follows.

I am squat, sturdy, and
comfortable out of doors at this time of year

I consume trashy novels exclusively and at the expense of any sensible activities, including sleep, watch maintenance, and detangling

I costume in yards of garnets, the green
Glitter of raven’s wings, and purple
Flower wreaths (dead; preserved), in the darkening season

I have kept sons and cats alive through two plague years and into a third, fighting off madness and hunger with cornstarch and cheese goldfish; I have made multiple home haircuts appear intentional during this period

Please note: I can make sunrise rituals work but have a strong preference for moonlight.

I await your reply in the hope of fellowship. (Forgive my
sending this message by groundhog. The raven
remains aspirational and
The cat smart enough to follow
directions has an engagement.)

Natalie Hennessy writes between extended bouts of overemployment, child rearing, and self-imposed fiction diets. She enjoys monster movies, K-pop, and obsessing over nail art. She lives in Rockland County, New York.