From her tiny balcony, the witch, brazenly watched the world go by.
Long, unkempt hair rested uneasily upon the grubby shawl adorning her bent, and ungainly form.
A hooked and crooked nose erupted from her face.
A face covered in warts and festering pimples.
Her twisted and deformed mouth displayed her blackened stumps.
She really exemplified the archetypal witch.
Looking down to the street below she got a friendly wave from a man below, who pointed in the direction of the oncoming traffic.
She wore her best scowl as several tour buses passed slowly by. Tour-guides pointed to her balcony and the tourists looked upwards, with startled expressions.
When the last coach had disappeared, she arose, ripped off her wig, spat out her dentures, removed her false nose and reached for the make-up removal wipes.
Smiling sweetly now, she thumbed through her well earned dollars.
Not bad for an hours work. (157 words)
This was originaly an entry to a Monday’s Finish the Story challenge but I knew I could do better. I hope you enjoy it.
I can’t say I’ve photographed many witches and I don’t like posting featured images that I didn’t take myself. This shaky photo (it must have been the emotion), was taken abord the Hurtigruten’s MS Polarlys, during a short ceremony when we crossed the Arctic Circle.