The uniformed policeman rang a doorbell, then moved back six feet.
A woman opened the door. “What can I do for you, Officer?”
“Your neighbors reported seeing a witch peek out of your upstairs window.”
“That’s my daughter. She’s afraid to comb her hair for fear of touching her face.”
|Bio & Link|
|John H. Dromey was born in northeast Missouri, USA. His short fiction has appeared in Mystery Weekly Magazine and numerous other magazines and anthologies.|