How they found her, she never knew.
The old witch wasn’t complaining though. Usually, she had to spend days prowling the dense forest or the local village to find worthy specimens. Not to mention the fortune it cost her in candy.
But these two. Standing on her doorstep pushing and shoving and yelling. Begging to be let in. Fish in a barrel.
She grinned, hearing the crackling of her cast iron stove coming to life. She parted the drapes on her front window and watched tonight’s dinner tire themselves out.
A little on the scrawny side, but she’d make do.
The Weekday One Hundred 