SECTION III - STORY TIME

Abby - Mystickally
Mystic Moon - ~Rain
Michael and Beth Chronicles - Selene SilverWind
Mewsings from The Alley - Mystickally
So Mote It Be - *WindSpirit*
Samantha, PoliceCat of the CCC - Astartes
The Wheel So Does Turn - Winter Sun
My Friend The Tree, Part 4 - " T "
Meagan's Beltaine - Kathryn Dyer

Abby
By Mystickally

Abby burst through the doors and kept herself standing upright by clinging to one of the building’s beams. As she tried to catch her breath, she noticed the crowds of people that couldn’t fit into the auditorium. They were staring at her with baffled expressions planted on their faces. She finally steadied herself enough to get herself to a tree, where she slowly lowered herself to sit up against the tree’s trunk. Abby closed her eyes tightly and tried to calm down, but before she could clear her mind of the day’s events, she felt somebody hovering over her.

Abby’s eyes fluttered open and focused on Greg’s eyes, then down onto his outstretched hand. The feelings of frustration and anxiety in her suddenly turned into anger. It took all of her energy to keep from giving into the temptation of kicking him between his legs.

“Get away from me!”

“We need to talk, AJ.”

Abby stood up, and slapping Greg’s hand away from her, and in a very spiteful tone, spit out,

“My name is Abigail, and I have nothing to say to you!”

Greg held up his arms in front of his face, as if to shield himself from a possible blow from Abby, then said calmly.

“OK, I’m sorry. I just want to talk.”

Abby glared directly into Greg’s eyes. She had grown up with Greg and for the longest time believed she knew everything about him. Abby had felt that she could trust him with anything. The day she found out about his betrayal, when he was exposed as the person that really killed Seth Stokton, she was crushed. Greg not only killed his own cousin, but he also lied to Abby. This was completely unforgivable to her. To top it all off, Greg said nothing. He let Abby suffer and take the fall.

Ever since the incident Abby spent a lot of time going over her life and analyzing every little event. She swore to herself that from then on, absolutely nobody would ever have that kind of control over her, that any other incidences would be her own doing and not one created by others. Abby had decided at that moment that she would distance herself from everyone and everything. Losing her friends in the process was just a small price to pay for her sanity. She had already lost Seth. The thought of even being in the same room as Greg had been impossibility – until now of course. Fate had inevitably stepped in and brought them together in a similarly stressful situation.

Greg broke the silence and with a loud sigh, stated:

“AJ, there are a lot of things you and I need to work out.”

Without warning, Abby turned to face Greg then punched him really hard in the gut. Not only was this action unexpected, but Greg also fell to the floor in pain with an obvious look of shock on his face.

“Didn’t think a girl could hit that hard, did you?! Do NOT call me AJ!”

By now Mike, Shaene and the rest of the gang were standing outside of the building and watching in disbelief. Abby began to walk away from Greg and towards her friends, when Greg called out,

“I know you better than you want to believe, Abigail. Nothing will change that fact. All I want to do is work things out with you and talk. We owe it to ourselves, don’t you think? And especially to Seth…”

With that last comment, Abby stopped dead in her tracks. Without turning to face Greg, Abby said in a very low and even voice,

“I am not going to let you back into my life Greg. You were the one that ended this friendship.”

Greg interrupted, “Now that’s not fair.”

Abby screamed, “Hey! Don’t you talk to me about things being unfair! You don’t know a thing about it! Unfair is finding out that your best friend was hit by a car and killed. Unfair is finding out that YOU are being blamed for it. Unfair is finding out that another friend is the person covered in Seth’s blood!”

Abby started to walk off again, but this time Greg ran after her and grabbed her by her shoulder.

“Will you just listen to what I have to say?!”

“I tried getting your side of the story, remember? All you did was lie to me some more. You said this friendship was GONE. That’s what you said Greg, and there is no way I would ever forget that!”

Greg tried to get another word in, but Abby just muttered for him to stay out of her life, and then walked off, past her friends, then out of sight. Something was possessing Greg to try to go after her, but Shaene and Cal stepped in front of him.

“I just want to talk to her.”

Cal shook his head no and shoved Greg back to talk to him privately.

“Leave her alone Greg. You’ve done enough damage.”
“What did I do?! All I want to do is –“

“Just stop it, OK? We finally just started to get Abby to open up again, but with you busting into her life again…just stay away Greg.”

Greg glared resentfully at Cal then stalked off. Cal let out a sigh of relief before rejoining the group. They all decided that it would be best for Shaene alone to go after Abby, and that he would fill in the rest of the group about how she was doing as soon as Shaene thought Abby was calm enough. They all went their separate ways. Cal asked Kat to let him be alone with his thoughts for the rest of the day. Worried but sympathetic, Kat left him alone and Cal began to walk around the beautiful campus, admiring the green grass and blooming flowers. As he walked he thought about Abby, Greg and a life they had all assumed was left behind.

Everything during that unfortunate year seemed to be going wrong. Abby was already on edge because of a superstition. Cal hadn’t believed it until now, but Abby swore that the number three was very unlucky for her. At 3 months old, her folks abandoned her. At 3 years old she was hospitalized with pneumonia for 3 months, and 3 years later she broke her leg playing volleyball. Three years after that, a good friend of hers died of leukemia, and three days later Abby lost another friend in a car accident. All that before she was even 10 years old! The only lucky number for Abby was 13, but that rarely ever came up. When it did, something very good always happened. Cal thought she was long overdue for the number 13.

Cal, Abby, Greg and Seth were part of a close-knit group of seven friends. All seven had grown up together, meeting for the first time as toddlers at a day care. They lived in the same neighborhood, only a few houses away from one another, and were intimate enough to be able to finish each other’s sentences and have the same thoughts. They were all “joined at the hip” and were practically siblings. Seth’s death had rocked the dynamics of the group, but Greg’s betrayal had broken it up. Everyone had gone their separate ways, and most of them had no idea where the others ended up. It was by chance that Cal and Abby ended up together again. Now with Greg back in the picture, Cal worried that Abby would start to slip away again.

Cal had been walking around for 3 hours before he realized that he had ended up at the apartment complex. There he found Shaene sitting on the hill in front of the building. Cal sat beside Shaene and they shared the companionable silence of longtime friends. They both understood the other’s thoughts and found no need to verbally express themselves. They just sat there, looking up at the peaceful blue sky.

As the sky grew darker, one by one another friend would join the two. First was Kat, and then came Janie, Mike, Cailey and Josh and Paul. Eventually Abby joined them. Together they all sat under the stars with their arms wrapped around one another.

“I’ll be fine, honest.” Abby declared, sensing everybody’s anxiety.

“It’ll get easier once this is all over.” Janie offered.

“I don’t know that I’ll be helping out with this one.” Abby announced.

“You have to! Abby, you are the strongest link that can help here. Greg needs you.”

“Janie, I needed Greg at one point but he didn’t help me out one bit!”

“Lay off her, Janie.”

“Stay out of this Mike!” Janie snapped at Mike then returned her attention to Abby.

“Abby, ignore the past! This isn’t so much about Mike as it is about your rights, and this does affect you!”

“Janie shut up!”

”Mike you shut up! We can’t let her give up on this just because of something that happened in the past!”

“This isn’t something that just happened to me Janie. This is about more than that. I could have gone to jail. My life could have been completely ruined.”

“But it didn’t, did it?!”

Abby stared at Janie, flabbergasted. She couldn’t believe her friend’s complete disregard of her feelings.

“This was a really hard period of my life Janie, and I was really hoping you would just be supportive of me.”

“I am supportive, but Greg isn’t here to drudge up bad memories. He’s here to move on, like you, and the injustice of it all just happens to directly affect him. But it does affect you too. I mean this could be you someday!”

“Janie, just drop it OK? We can talk about this later.” Cal pleaded as calmly as he possibly could. He was secretly fuming that Janie could be so insensitive.

Janie bit her lip and stared up at the sky again. She rolled her eyes in defiance, then got up and announced that she was going to bed, and then stormed off.

They all watched as Janie walked off. Kat searched Abby’s face for any indication of her feelings, but she just looked straight ahead of herself and showed no emotions.

“Abby, are you going to be ok?”

Abby smiled at Kat and nodded yes. The truth was that Abby wanted to argue with Janie. She wanted to kick Greg a few times in the head, and then spend the rest of her life hidden in the apartment. Abby knew she should probably go through with backing Greg up, but when she found out who “the Graduate student” was, she just couldn’t bare having to see him everyday, and to make matters worse, she’d have to be defending him!

“I don’t know what to do…” Abby admitted.

Shaene put his arm around her and gave her a little hug.

Kat said, “We’ll back you up no matter what you decide.”

“If this is too hard for you, then don’t involve yourself. It’s as simple as that.” Cal explained.

Abby responded, “But I am involved already. I can’t just turn my back away.”

“If you aren’t comfortable with it then nothing good will come out of your involvement.”

Cal looked into Abby’s conflicted eyes and sighed.

“We could sure use your help, Abby. You certainly aren’t obligated though. "And nobody would blame you if you bowed out. It’s your call. If it’s too painful, then don’t do it.”

Kat interjected, “Don’t listen to what Janie said. She’s not being very objective. You have to do what is right for you.”

“But Janie was right; this isn’t about Greg, it’s about our rights to follow whatever spiritual path we want.” Abby said, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself rather than to everyone else.

“That’s true.” Cal agreed.

“But what did Greg ever do to help me out? Why should I help him now? I mean there are other ways to fight for a cause like this, right?”

“That’s true too. Abby, it’s your call. You won’t be wrong in whatever you do decide to do.”

After a long silence, Mike stood up, stretched and sighed. He reached his hand out to Abby and said,

“Well, there’s a party tonight. Why don’t you join us? It’ll take your mind off of your worries for now. You can start thinking about it again once you’ve partied a little, OK? Your mind will have been focused on other things so maybe then you’ll have a clearer understanding of what you’ll want to do.”

Abby laughed and decided Mike’s idea wasn’t a bad one. The group headed over to the party, which was in their building complex. It took Abby a while to get into the music and the overall happy environment, but she finally started dancing and having a good time. She started acting like her old, partying self, so Shaene and Cal relaxed a bit. They were so worried about her that they had both kept a close eye on her. Shaene, Kat and Cal went off to a corner together to talk about Abby and Greg. They were so immersed in their conversation that they never noticed Abby downing shots of alcohol and getting a little too drunk. Abby slipped out of the door without anybody knowing, dancing her way passed the crowds of party goers and out into the darkness…

Mystic Moon
by ~Rain
e-mail : Peachyvamp@aol.com
URL: http://www.hometown.aol.com/peachyvamp/rain.htm

Mystic Moon is a fiction story about two friends, Gwen and Jane. Gwen is an intermediate practitioner of the Wiccan faith and Jane is just beginning her spiritual path. Together these two friends will grow and evolve as individuals as well as best friends. Their sharp wit, brutal truth, and interesting conversations will provide entertainment for all age groups. So sit back, have a cup of tea and enjoy the newst addition to the Cauldrons and Broomsticks e-zine.


Gwen, Jane and the Magick of Witchcraft

I walked in the coffee shop, hoping I wasn't late, but I glanced at the clock shaped like a sun, realizing that yes, I was late. I ran to the table to find Jane sitting giving me the evil eye.

"OK, what's your excuse now, forget to leave the candles on, and had to run home to turn them off, or was it that the séance ran late?" Jane said still staring.

"Sorry I am only what 5 or 7 minutes late." I was lying through my teeth.

"Yeah OK, I get that you don't want "time" to rule your life, that's why your not big on watches but, couldn't you see the suns shadow or the north star and realize that I, your wonderful caring friend, is WAITING here?" her voice screeched at the last word in her sentence.

"Hey, I am always late you know me, sorry, did you order yet?"

"Yeah, the girl with 50 piercing in areas that I didn't even know existed, and purple hair, is our "special" waitress of the day."

"Come on at least she's trying to be herself, I mean if I listen to everything everyone else told me to be, I'd be wearing hot pink Capri’s with a shirt that say 'Jesus loves you' and be a regular church goer."

"OK you win." Jane gave a sigh and looked at her watch. "Where is that lovely waitress anyway"?

"Trying to fish out her nose ring that fell out into your drink!" we both laughed at my joke, but quietly hushed to see the girl come over, with our coffee.

"Gwen, I ordered you, your usual" Jane said as the girl carefully placed the cups on the table, and managing to place a fake smile on her face. The girl left and we resumed our conversation. " why do you want to meet in this place?" Jane sighed and carefully inspected her coffee for that nose ring. She went to take a sip then paused, "I mean, isn't it a little dark in here, and don't tell me they want to save on the electric bill."

"See Jane, this is why I like you, you always can find something wrong with anything, no wonder why your my best friend." I smiled, as did Jane. I kept trying to steer her away from the topic of my lateness. I didn't want her to find out why I was late; she'd over react as usual!

"So, you never did tell me today's excuse. " Jane said.

"Excuse, for... what, whatever do you mean. " I was trying to buy some time hoping that I could come up with some reasonable sounding story. Think Gwen, THINK!!!!

"You know what I mean today's excuse for being late, wait let me guess, a man you met, a mystical vampire that you meet in the Occult section of the bookstore." she was giving me that look again, the one where she starts, bugging me about my witchcraft.

" I, well, OK so heres the thing, I tripped." OK that sounded good, no, no damn that look, she knows I am lying. I hate best friends; she can read me like a book.

"Just tell !"

"Promise not to freak out?"

"Promise."

"OK, I was at this job interview and well the man he was a real jerk, I mean capital 'J ' jerk! " I sipped my coffee, and went on.. "he kept giving me looks like, he was trying to figure out my Bra size or something sick like that.... so when the job interview was over I went to the ladies room, into a stall and wrote his name on a piece of paper and, well, flushed it down the john, with a couple.... encouraging words for that Mr. Jacobs. "

" You cursed him!" Jane yelled, the other people at the table near us turn in our direction, I smiled and shrugged

"No I did NOT, I just asked the gods to help this man, cleanse him of his dirty rude habits." I finished my coffee and glanced across the table to see Jane's face, glitter with appreciation.

" Please, please teach me witchcraft, I would have went home crying or something, but you, wow, just bam... that's what I want to do... I want to be a Witch!" I stopped Jane. Knowing full well she could go on and on about this subject. Whenever, she asked I'd change the subject, but today was different I felt she was ready, and so was I.

"OK, Janey, lets go, we have work to do." I said, Jane got up at the same time as me and she ran and hugged me.

"Yes, I can't wait to be a witch!" Jane exclaimed as she finally let me go.

"You know, there is a little witch in every women!" (That is my favorite movie line, from Practical Magic.) We walked out of the coffee house, two witches, two friends, two women. I was ready to embark on a new adventure.

Michael and Beth
Dinner Revelations
by Selene Silverwind
Slvrwind@aol.com

Sunday Assembly

Sunday morning, Adam and Kyra sat on the lawn in the courtyard enjoying a warm day and helping Marisa develop her musical abilities. Adam beat out a simple rhythm on his metal goblet-shaped drum that Marisa to mimicked on her own smaller doumbek while Kyra shook a rattle in time to Adam's rhythmic drumbeat. Lured by the music drifting through his window, Mark came out of his apartment and joined them on the lawn, moving into a free-form dance. The rhythm of the drums was familiar to Beth and she peeked out the window to see where it was coming from. When she saw her neighbors on the lawn, she picked up her guitar and skipped down the stairs to join them. She perched herself on the lawn next to Adam and began to play the Irish melody that matched Adam's beat. Kyra stood to join Mark in his dance as Beth started to sing the words that went with the tune. Enjoying their collaboration, Beth and Adam grinned at each other, then Beth began to pick out a new tune. Adam and Marisa followed along, the three of them making up the song as they went. Michael came in from the carport and dropped his backpack down on the grass before jumping into a frenetic jig with Kyra and Mark. After ten minutes of energetic dancing, the exhausted dancers collapsed on the grass and the musicians broke out into laughter and applause.

Michael got his breath back and went to sit next to Beth. "You have a beautiful voice."

Beth blushed. "Thanks. I play with an Irish band on Wednesday nights."

"Really? I love Celtic music. We ought to get the whole building to go one night."

Beth grinned at the prospect of an audience made up of her neighbors. Neighbors that were rapidly becoming good friends. "I would love that."

"Is that last song you were playing one you play with your band? I didn't recognize it."

"That's because I made it up on the spot," Beth said with a laugh.

Michael raised his eyebrows, impressed. "Then I'll definitely have to come hear you play soon"

"Come by later and I'll give you the address of the pub." Beth glanced at her watch. "It's noon already. I'd better go before the furniture store gets too crowded."

"Knock on my door when you get back if you need help with anything."

Beth grinned, pushing herself onto her feet. "Will do."

Three hours later, Beth returned, her Jeep loaded down with boxes containing assembly-required bookcases, kitchen chairs, end tables, nightstands, and a coffee table, along with a few bags of miscellaneous home items like placemats and funky candleholders. She hopped out and grabbed a box to drop off on her way to get Michael. He had heard her pull up, and she passed him on the stairs as he went down to help. On his way, he knocked on Anacati's door to rally more help. Beth laughed when she saw the two of them waiting at her car. "You must really love carrying boxes," she said to Anacati. "

"It's how I get my exercise," Anacati said. She motioned to the coffee table box. "Want to help me with this one?" Beth grabbed the other side of the box and they lifted it off the back of the truck while Michael picked up two smaller boxes and started into the building ahead of them.

"So, what do you think of Michael?" Anacati asked as she and Beth moved into the courtyard with the cumbersome box.

Beth turned her head to gauge the distance to the stairs and hide her embarrassment. Was she that obvious? "I like him. Why?"

Anacati noticed the faint color that had bloomed in Beth's cheeks. "Just curious. Thought there might be something there."

Beth knew her blush was too bright to hide and she looked back at Anacati, giving up the pretense. "Oh, there is. I'm just not sure that I'm ready for anything right now."

"Bad breakup?"

"You could say that."

"Well, Michael's a good guy, so give him a shot when you're ready," Anacati said. She nodded toward the first step. "Step up." Beth followed Anacati's pointers as she climbed backwards up the steps and the uncomfortable conversation ended as they focused on not tripping.

The three of them unloaded the car quickly and Michael stayed behind afterward to help Beth put everything together. "I hope we don't have to assemble the couch, too."

Beth chuckled and fanned her hands over the boxes. "Yeah, all these boxes together make a couch." Michael laughed at the joke before she fessed up the truth. "It's being delivered tomorrow with the bed and dresser. I opted for pre-assembly."

"Good idea," Michael said, looking around the room. "Do you have an electric screwdriver."

"No. I forgot to buy one," she said, her face crinkling in annoyance with herself.

Michael jumped to his feet. "I'll get mine. Be right back." And he was, moments later, with the promised tool and an extra hammer. They decided to put the entertainment center together first. "So how long have you played guitar?" he asked after they had sorted out the screws and boards.

"Since I was six," she said, hammering wood screws into the base board. I've always been the artistic type."

"I wish I shared your skill. The best I can do is write poetry," he said. He connected the next board the base and held out the instructions. "Does this look right?"

"Yeah, I think so. Anyway, poetry's artistic. I've created some great paintings based on poems. Can I read one of yours sometime?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, remembering the one he had written Thursday night. He hadn't decided yet when he would give it to her. He didn't want to scare her off by revealing too much too soon. He pointed to another board. "That's next."

The afternoon flew by as the rest of the furniture came together. They positioned the tables around where the couch would be, then pushed the entertainment center against the opposite wall. Michael helped her plug in her TV and VCR. Beth checked her watch for the first time that afternoon so she could fix the annoying blinking clock. "Oh my Goddess, is it really 7:30?" she asked.

Michael double-checked the time on his watch. "Yeah. Is that bad?"

"I have preliminary sketches of a sculpture due tomorrow and I haven't even started them yet."

"What are you sculpting?"

"I haven't decided that yet either," she moaned.
Michael laughed. He knew well how that felt. "I'd better let you get to work then. I'll come by tomorrow afternoon to see if you need more help."

"I'd appreciate that," Beth said, following him to the door.

Stalling for an opportunity to kiss her, Michael stopped in the doorway. "And if you need anyone to look at your sketches when they're done, feel free to drop by."

Sensing that Michael was about to make a move and suddenly panicked by the prospect, Beth stepped back, stuttering out a goodbye. "Thanks, I might just take you up on that. Night." She shut the door, breathing hard, and went to her stereo to put on some diversionary music.

As he walked down the hallway to his apartment, Michael heard the loud Cat Stevens music start up and grinned to himself. She was definitely his kind of girl. He also remembered that he needed to finish some research and went inside to attend to it. As usual, he got lost in his work and didn't hear the music stop a few hours later. The knock at his door startled him. Wondering if Anacati needed something, he set down his notepad and the book he was taking notes from and went to answer it.

"Hi," Beth said when he opened the door.

"Hi. Did you finish?"

"Yeah. I thought I'd take you up on your offer," she said, holding out her sketches.

"No problem. Come on in." He opened the door wide enough for her to pass through and took the sketches from her as she entered. He looked over her sketches as he followed her to the couch. "Wow. These are good. Is the sculpture of someone specific?

"I think it's Bridget," she said, settling on the comfortable black corduroy cushions and surveying the apartment. He had good taste, not overly masculine, but not too feminine. Just the right mix of student poverty and post-college enhancements.

Michael handed back her sketchpad and sat down next to her. "Yeah, they look kind of like her. When do you start the sculpture?"

"Next week, after my instructor approves the project."
"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Actually I was thinking I might ask Kyra if I could put it in the garden."

He nodded. "I'm sure she'd be cool with that. She sort of lets the tenants do what they want as long as they don't destroy the building."

"I feel like I should give something back after all the help everyone's been giving me."

"Oh, I'm sure you'll get a chance to help each of us at some point."

Beth smiled. She hoped so. She really enjoyed her new home, especially the effect Michael had on her. She could feel herself drowning just sitting on the couch next to him. She wasn't ready for that. Bringing herself back down to earth she glanced at her watch, then excused herself with, "Well, thanks for looking these over. I need to get back and put the finishing touches on them." She stood up and moved toward the door. "I'll see you tomorrow, right?" she said over her shoulder to Michael who was trailing her to the door.

"Right." He placed a hand on her back as he opened the door for her and tingles shot through it and he pulled it away quickly.

He hadn't been the only one to feel the sparks, and Beth turned to look at him, wishing she could bring herself to kiss him. She stared at him for a moment, trying to call up her nerve. She just couldn't get there. "Well, um goodnight."

He couldn't take it anymore. Tomorrow he would kiss her. And that was final.

The next afternoon, he walked down the hall to her apartment, intent on making his move. The door was open and he peeked inside, looking for her. "Hello?"

"Come in," Beth called from inside.

The first thing he noticed as that the loveseat had arrived. It was nice. Green and white striped twill. Built perfectly for two. The next thing he noticed was that she was still surrounded by her books, but they were being systematically put on the bookcases. "Alphabetical or by subject?" he asked.

"Both."

Confused, he furrowed his brow. "How does that work?"

"You know, fiction together, in alphabetical order. Metaphysical and related books the same way."

"Wow. That's complicated. I'm more of a stuff them in and hope you can find them later sort of person." Beth laughed and nodded. He sat down on the couch behind her, then felt weird just watching. "Need help with anything?"

"Yeah, actually." Beth got up and disappeared into her bedroom. She returned with two pillows and two pillow shams, which she tossed to Michael. "Put those together. Then you can help me make the bed." Beth settled back on the floor with her books while Michael struggled to shove the oversized pillows into the regular-sized shams. When he was done, he threw them at her to let her know. "Hey!" she cried in mock outrage, then jumped to her feet. "Okay, let's put this bed together."

Michael followed her into the bedroom where the extra-thick queen-size mattress had been set up in an ornate iron frame. Beth walked around to the far side of the bed and pulled a large cotton mattress cover with elasticized sides out of a plastic sleeve. She tossed him one end and they finished unfolding it together. Beth tucked one corner over the edge of the mattress, then Michael tucked in his side. They moved down to the other end of the bed, and Beth tucked in her bottom corner. When she did, her top corner popped off. Growling, she moved up to tuck that one back in, and Michael's corner came off.

"This isn't working," she said. Frustrated, Beth formulated a plan. "Okay, I'll do my side and hold it down, then you do your side," she said. She stretched the pad back over the corners, then laid down flat down the length of her side of the bed. Michael tucked in his top corner and she reached one hand across to hold down his top end while he tucked in the bottom. The cover stayed put.

"Yes, we beat it!" Michael cried, shaking his fists in victory.

"Now we just have to put on the bottom sheet, the top sheet and the comforter," she said.

Michael shoulders slumped and he shook his head in defeat. "Just when I thought the war was over."

Beth handed him the bottom sheet and they unfolded it over the bed. This time they used Beth's system from the start and the blue sheet went onto the mattress with little fuss. Next came the top sheet, which Beth swept up, then floated onto the bed.

"Hospital corners?" he asked.

Beth shot him a wry look. "Me? Never. I'd rip them right out in my sleep. Tuck lots of sheet under the end though."

Michael did as instructed as Beth smoothed the sheet up the mattress. "That wasn't too bad at all. Where's your comforter?" he said.

"It's in there," she said, pointing to a plastic bag in the corner. "Would you grab it for me?"

He tossed the bag on top of the bed and she unzipped the sides, pulling out a big, white, fluffy mass of fabric. They unfolded it onto the bed and straightened it. They were down to the last step and Beth tossed him one pillow and a case. While he was a stuffer, she was a shaker, but they both got their pillows into the cases and placed them on the bed, then covered them with shammed pillows.

For the finishing touch Beth folded a throw over the end of the bed. She laid down on her back on one side of the bed and motioned to the other side. "How's that side feel?"

Michael slid onto the bed next to her. "Feels good. Comfy. Really fluffy." She was close. So very close. He could be laying on pinecones and they would feel like cottonballs.

"This is great. First time I ever had a queen-size," Beth said, lolling her head back on the pillow and stretching her arms out, but not too far, she didn't know if she could be held accountable for what might happen should her hand accidentally brush his leg.

"I love my bed. I went big time when I got my first bed. King." Michael rolled onto his side to look at Beth. He ached to reach out and stroke the auburn strands of hair that were draped over the pillow.

"Too big for me. Too much space between me and the person I'm with," she said, then realized what she was implying.

Hoping the answer would be no, Michael asked his next question hesitantly. "Is there someone who'll be sleeping here?"

"No. That's not even a remote possibility right now," she said, keeping her voice flat. Beth rolled onto her side to look at Michael. There he was, just a foot away, tempting her without meaning to.

"I'm not sure whether you're happy or sad about that."

Bowing her head, she shrugged and picked at the comforter. "I'm not sure either. A part of me wishes I was still with someone. But another part of me is glad my last relationship is over."

"Was it that bad?"

She sighed. "Oh, yes and no. Yes toward the end."

"Do you want to talk about what happened?"

"No. It's still touchy for me."

She looked at him. Their faces were only inches apart. Michael was being sucked in by her, desperate to kiss her. He looked for the permission in her eyes. "Anytime you want to talk I'm here for you. I've been told I have a really comfortable shoulder." He reached out and put his hand on hers. Bright red sparklers shot tingles up his arm.

"I may take you up on that sometime," she said. Her lips curled into an affectionate smile.

They stopped talking. Michael's hand rested on top of hers. The feel of her skin touching his made his heart pound and his breath quicken. He started to lean in and Beth moved forward until their lips were an inch apart. He could feel her warm breath on his skin. Their lips met briefly, but before the kiss could deepen, Beth pulled away. Michael stopped, unsure what to do now. They needed to be somewhere neutral. A first kiss on this bed might lead to more than they were ready for. "Have you ever been to Pages?" he asked.

"No, what's that?" she said, thankful for the diversion from her own pounding pulse.

"It's a great bookstore slash coffee shop. Let's go." At Beth's eager nod, they jumped off the bed.

Michael ran over to his place to get his keys while Beth put on shoes and got her purse. She wished she had let him finish that kiss. It had been so sweet, so perfect, but then she'd gotten scared. It was time for her to get over that. Move forward. Maybe after coffee she'd be ready. She nodded to herself. After coffee. "Ready?" she called as she headed out the door.

He nodded. "Ready."

Mewsings from The Alley
By Mystickally (mystickally@yahoo.com)

…If you ever need any advice on your kitty (or any other animal for that matter!) please don’t hesitate to email me. I will be more than happy to answer any and all questions…

Cats make wonderful conductors of heat, don’t they? On that lonely, cold night, a cat is a great warm body to cuddle up to. When you feel like you’re the only sane person left in the world, and when it feels like every other warm human body is either a jerk or just not your type, a cat can always be counted on your unconditional love (well, not including the mandatory head scratches and clean litter boxes!) Your kitty will always keep you feeling loved and warm during those cold nights. So what happens when that source of heat turns out to be coming from a candle? You gotta love those unfortunate moments when the cat decides to use up one of his nine lives by getting a wee bit too close to the flame of a candle. And they’re just so darn sneaky about it too! They walk away without making a sound. You find out a cat is on fire either by looking at them or smelling burning fur, as if either of these things can be missed!

Gustav is a beautiful cat. He is unusual for his breed : a solid blue (grey) Maine Coon. This colour is very unusual for this breed, which makes Gustav only the more unique and precious. Unfortunately whoever the unscrupulous breeder was that bred him wasn’t very smart, because he dumped poor Gustav at the local pound when he was a very young kitten, probably because he wasn’t a show standard cat (what the breeder didn’t realize was that he still could have gotten mega bucks for him since he is a pure bred. The idiot even left his papers with him! Ha!) Anyway, I digress. It tends to happen when I have the opportunity to brag about my little gang! ;-) Gustav and his beautiful longhaired fur decided to investigate the candle Mommy always lights. I have a little altar set up on my dresser. Gustav has always been told the dangers of getting too close to the candles. I thought that he was listening to me, (ha!) and that after being with me for two and a half years, he’d have known to stay away. Silly me. I turned away for only a second (famous last words of every “parent” right?) and when I turned back, there was Gustav, jumping off the dresser and trying to walk away as calmly as possible and trying to act as innocently as he could. Of course I freaked out!! The side of his body was singed, and his tail was pretty much burned to a crisp. Luckily, Gustav has thick and long fur, so there weren’t any serious burns. The only one that was actually truly affected by the incident was me! My heart must have jumped down into my feet! Gustav was fine, looking a bit abused (lol!) but otherwise came away with no injuries. He’s never climbed up onto the altar again though.

Another one of Gustav’s little crazy stunts involves a full glass. He LOVES to stick his little nose in the cup, then reach his paw in to tip it over. He never wants to drink out of it, just tip it over and watch the contents fall out. His water bowl also gets some abuse out of him. Since he can’t tip it over like the glass, I think he makes up for it by sticking both paws in to scoop some water out and onto the floor. Once the bowl is completely empty, he sits his fat butt in the bowl. I wake up in the morning to see his smug face purring up at me (with the puddle of water beside him on the floor of course.) I think I’ve gotten him back though. I bought one of those water bowls that caters to large 200 lbs dogs. There is no way that Gustav can scoop ALL the water out of there without tiring out. Heh heh heh…

Then there is Lucky. She’s a strange one in general! Lucky came to me after a friend rescued her. She couldn’t take her in, so she called me and brought her to my house. Lucky has a rather odd meow. It’s more of a nasal “Eh!” than a usual kitty cry. And Lucky is LARGE. We all thought she was pregnant, but it turned out that she is just really, REALLY fat! She looks to be about 15-20 lbs. but she weighs in at about 10 lbs. After about a year of putting her on a diet, she has managed to lose some, but she still looks pregnant. We finally came to a conclusion: it has something to do with her being a hermaphrodite. Yes, you read it correctly! Lucky has both female and male organs. (She is predominantly female though.) Lucky’s little trick is neat. If you itch her butt, she’ll raise her head up, get this blank stare in her eyes, and start waving her head back and forth. We call her Stevie Wonder, and every time we itch her butt, we fight off the urge to sing “I just called to say I love you…” and put sunglasses on her. Usually we lose the battle. :::shrug:::

Oh and by the way, the entire time that I am writing this article, Tabitha is sitting on the desk beside the compter, glaring at me, telling me that if I say anything to embarrass them that they will eat me while I sleep. :::sigh:::

The Pride is used to having new cats coming in and out of the house. Even though they are separated from the new additions at first, they know that strange cats will always be around, and they are all completely used to it. I’m lucky to have 16 cats that get along so well and love each other so much! When I brought him Dax and Jadzia in for the first time, I wasn’t sure how they would react to two new girls in the bunch. I joked that Jadzia and Worf would become the best of buddies some day (for you Star Trek: Deep Space Nine fans, you know what I mean!) so imagine my surprise when Worf took Jadzia under his care. The two are inseparable! They sleep together, groom each other, and they call to each other when it’s eating time! They are just too adorable together. Now that I’ve got 3 new girls in the house (yes, there are currently 19 cats total with me right now!) I’m working on integrating the new ones. They are by far the most feral I’ve had to deal with. They are a mother and two daughters. Momma is named Bastet, the one year old daughter is named Rabbit and the youngest 6 month old daughter is named Phoebe. All three are absolutely beautiful and are coming along better than I had expected! Rabbit seems to be the Lieutenant, while Phoebe is the kitten that she should be, running around and being nosy. She plays with toys and attacks my feet at night. Bastet so far is the hardest to deal with. She is still at the stage where if you even look at her she’ll hiss at you. Sebastian has taken it upon himself to make them feel welcome though. Whenever I let him in the room, he goes straight to them and they all end up snuggled up together. Tabitha is making it a bit harder on them, but that’s OK. Since Tabitha is the alpha “boss lady,” it’s her job to say “I AM IN CHARGE!” Overall, life in The Alley has been quite hectic, but productive.

Whenever you are feeling down, grab a cat. Give him an itch, and I guarantee the purring will cure your depression in no time! If you want to have a good laugh, have some catnip handy, or maybe a feather wand. You’ll have hours of fun!

So Mote It Be.
by WindSpirit

You wouldn't walk beside me,
because I couldn't walk your road.
You said only He could guide me;
I said that's not what I've been told.

You loved me like no other,
till I would not get on my knees-
Then I prayed to God the Mother
and you called it blasphemy.

I did my best to explain it,
the Goddess knows I tried.
But you couldn't entertain it
Your open mind wouldn't open that wide.

You wanted me to walk your path,
said you wanted to save my soul.
You thought without you I was but half
You couldn't see I was born whole.

If you can't see the best in me,
then I guess it's just as well-
cause you don't believe in Destiny
and I don't believe in Hell.

-WindSpirit 2000

Samantha, PoliceCat of the CCC
By Astartes

Voice-Over: Last Time on Samantha, PoliceCat of the CCC: Samantha, Jaycee, and Worf had been captured by a group of Strange Cats Wearing ArmBands.

Strange Cat #2: Viva la FOATGARATEC!

Strange Cat #3: Shh! Not during the Voice-Over.

Voice-Over: We saw them being chloroformed and dragged off to a Strange Location. Sebastian was nowhere to be seen.

Strange Cat #2: Sebastian? Who’s that?

Strange Cat #3: Quiet! Voice-Over!

Voice-Over: Let’s listen in as our Heroes plan their next move!

[Camera pans toward a small encampment in the forest. Our heroes are in a cage hung from a tree.]

Samantha: That’s enough you guys. It’s not my fault.

Jaycee and Worf [glaring]: . . . .

Samantha: Arrrgh! I hate men. Always gotta do that damn superior thing. Like I give a flip. Like I *WANTED* to get caught.

Jaycee: So what now “Oh Great Leader”?

[Worf chuckles]

[Samantha rears back and slaps both of them at the same time.]

Samantha: Hush so I can think.

[All of a sudden a ruckus was heard from the other end of the Strange Encampment. Shouts and groans are heard and getting closer]

Samantha: What the he…..?

[Sebastian, wearing a NinjaCat suit, comes sauntering out of the brush, casually tossing one of the Strange Guards onto the floor. He takes out a small katana blade and cuts down out heroes. They land unceremoniously on the ground with a thud.]

Samantha: Well, THIS is just great. I’ll never hear the end of it!

Sebastian: Look out, she’s gonna have a fit!

Samantha [confused]: …. Uh. Right. Let’s get back to home base.

Sebastian [non-plussed]: Ok! I bet I’ll be able to keep pace!

[Jaycee and Worf realize what Sebastian is doing and start to giggle]

Samantha [glaring]: What? What the hell are you guys laughing about?

Sebastian: I hope she doesn’t start to pout!

[Samantha glares at Sebastian and starts to stalk off toward home]

Jaycee [to Sebastian]: That Samantha, she is very short on . . . charm.

Sebastian: If we aren’t careful, she’ll do us some . . . harm.

Jaycee: You are very good at this, my friend.

Sebastian: I can do this till the very end!

Samantha [off screen]: Ok guys. Quit it and I mean it!

Sebastian: Anybody want a peanut?

[Samantha growls in disgust while Jaycee and Worf collapse with giggles. Sebastian takes his bow and starts off after Samantha. The other two do the same, dusting themselves off and wiping the tears out of their eyes.]

Voice-Over: Just then our Heroes met a small group of Mice.

Strange Cat #2: Mice? What the hell is that?

Strange Cat #3: Hush! It’s a Plot Twist.

Mice: Halt! Before you pass you must do us a favor!

Samantha: Who are you?

Mice: We are the Mice who say Squeak!

Mice [in the background]: Squeak!

Samantha: Not the Mice who say Squeak!

Mice: The same.

[Just then Samantha lunges forward and eats the head Mouse. The other Mice squeak and scatter to the winds.]

Samantha: That’s the end of that bit then. Let’s get home.

Voice-Over: Samantha! That wasn’t in the script!

Samantha: Screw you! The script is trite and starting to make my teeth itch. Plus I end up looking like a moron.

Voice-Over: That’s it. I’ve had enough of your lip missy.

[A large pencil comes out of the sky and draws a muzzle over Samantha’s snout. It doesn’t seem to have a release.]

Samantha [muffled]: Mmmm! MmmMMmmmMM!

Jaycee: Thank God for THAT!

Worf: Seriously.

Sebastian: Ok, now we can get home.

[They mosey off-screen dragging a very irate Samantha along behind them]

[Scene opens at our Heroes home as they come into view. A loud struggle is heard. It seems a battle is ensuing.]

Samantha: MmmMmmmmmMmmmMMM!

Sebastian: That’s right! We gotta help them. To arms!

[Our heroes join the fray]

Voice-Over: Just then 15 Strange Cats confront Sebastian.

Strange Cat #2: Ohh! This is Sebastian.

Strange Cat #3: ::sigh:: I give up.

Voice-Over: Sebastian bows toward them and assumes the Stalking Leopard Stance. And with a loud Kii-hop! He lunges for them. Just then a voice in the distance is heard yelling Sebastian’s name. It seems to get closer. Everyone on the battlefield stops and listens for the voice.

SEBASTIAN

SEBAStian

SEBastian

SE…..

Sebastain! Wake up! It’s time for dinner.

Huh? What? Oh. I’ll be right there.

::sigh:: That boy. Always daydreaming. I wonder what he’s dreaming about.

The Wheel So Does Turn
by Winter Sun
Hdanzi@sjc.edu

Summer is late, my heart.
Youthful spring wishes not
to give up her lush green throne
and concede to maturing
desires of the maiden to come.

Her virgin ways,
Like Diana hunting in the moonlight,
commands no man ever peer upon her strong vibrant body.
But what of this summer, this season of
Endless warm nights…
What temptations and blazing desires
Does it kindle in mortal hearts?

Do the fires call so that none can escape their fiery hold?
Surely both maiden and man
long for the midsummer
to rescue them from springs ever growing
banal purity?

But what comes next?
Just as the spring cannot continue into eternity
summer's lust will come and wane,
and fall's brilliant bounty will oft follow,
only to turn to the icy grip of winter's cold crone.

Youth to age to death,
then back to her arms once again…
the wheel so does turn…
so perhaps it is well that for now,
summer is late, my heart.

My Friend The Tree chapter four
By "T"

The snows from a couple of weeks ago have completely melted away, helped by the rains of the past couple of days. Marvellous! From freezing to warm, from winter to spring in just a week. The rivers and streams have swollen almost to overflowing. I can taste the rumble of a small set of white water and I recall that during the summer it's reduced to a trickle, the proverbial babbling brook. A small tree that had just started budding, has been uprooted and is lying across the creek bed with the upper branches on the railing of the bridge. I'm leaning on the downstream railing of the bridge, watching the water, following in my mind the path the stream takes on the way to the lake. It's easy enough, I'd studied a map a few years ago. Sneaky eh? I remembered that the stream meanders between the hills (some call them ridges) until it, and other streams, is stopped by a small dam on the northern outskirts of the city. Below the dam, the stream, now called a river, is bound and constrained by concrete and boulders in steel mesh cages.

As exhilarated as I am, with my senses almost overloaded by the unbound power of nature, I am still saddened by what is happening downstream. People so proud of being able to control this small part of our planet, that they believe they have done something truly significant. Silly humans. A poignant moment.

It's beltane-eve, really it is! I think this is the second time I have been up here with Dayen before midnight since I found my friend the tree. The sunset was around eight-thirty, but the sky was overcast so the night never really got any darker. The city lights reflecting off the cloud-cover were almost bright enough to read by.

The route I take to get to my friend, is due north with a little bit of west thrown in for good measure. The road has very few curves but a lot of hills. I guess, technically, it would be called a glacial moraine. From lake level, a few hundred meters above sea level, the moraine rises almost two kilometres. The road undulates like an accordion, the dips dropping sometimes three hundred meters (around 1000 feet) below the crests, with about twenty kliks (kilometres) to go through before I reach my friend.

I was at the top of the second to last crest, when I saw the reflection from the tail-lights of more than one car from the top of the next hill. I knew it was the place where I usually parked Dayen when I go to visit my friend. I had a sinking feeling in my chest, it's probably those litterbugs, I thought. This was a problem. Should I go and visit my friend maybe interrupting whatever they are doing? Should I turn around and come back later? Maybe I should drive by and see if I recognised any of the cars. Yeah, that's the best idea, and if I continue on along the road they might think that I'm just another passing car. I turn off Dayen's stereo, Mozart's Jupiter symphony, one of my favourites, and slow down as I approach the cars parked along the side of the road.

There are three, almost new Cavaliers, parked in my usual spot. I can see a pair of those fuzzy dice hanging from the mirror of one of them. I can hear noises that sound like laughter from a distance, but the cars are empty, and I don't recognise any of them. Three Cavaliers, hmmm. I don't know what it's like where you live, but up here, Cavaliers are a favoured car of young kids. "Showing your age are you T?" I think to myself. "These kids may be as old as thirty, and I still consider them kids." I decided to let them have their privacy for whatever they are doing, as I hope others would allow me privacy.

Four right turns and about twenty minutes later, I park Dayen at the bottom of the hill and get out to watch the water in the creek. It was pretty good timing, the Mozart tape had just finished and I prefer to root through the cassette case while I'm parked, instead of while I'm driving. I had seen the cars were still there when I crested the hill.

The sound of breaking branches reaches me over the noise from the rapids. On the other side of the bridge I could see the top of the uprooted tree disappearing from view. I walked over and watched as the roots were pulled into the tunnel under the road. I thought to myself, "The wheel of life continues". The tree would supply food and shelter to lots of little life forms, then, as it decayed more food and nutrients to others, including other trees. The world as it was, and will be, regardless of humans, a perfect cycle. What a wonderful thing to see on beltane! I ran back across the bridge to watch the tree on its way. With the top leading, the tree slid over the white water and disappeared in the darkness.

I looked uphill towards the cars, I knew I wouldn't be able to see them, but, I did see a flickering glow off to the right of the road. Too bright for candles, maybe a fire, but not a very big fire. That tears it! I'm usually a very quiet, private, person. I'm uncomfortable imposing my beliefs on others. Who am I to say that something is wrong. The idea of fighting for what I believe in is foreign to me. But having a fire near my friend the tree, evoked a protective instinct in me. I decided to walk up the hill to see exactly what they were doing. I went back to Dayen to lock-up and get a piece of paper to write the license numbers down. I was about three meters away when two cop cars drove by with their lights off. I turned to watch them drive up the hill and park one on either end of the line of cars, blocking them in. From the interior lights of the cruisers that came on as the doors opened, I could tell there were at least four cops, maybe more.

I went back to Dayen, grabbed a random tape from the case, put it in the stereo, started the engine, and pulled a U-ie and drove home to the sounds of the first album by Triumph. Chuckling all the way.

MEAGAN'S SUMMER SOLSTICE
by Kathryn Dyer ©1996

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Meagan. She lived with her mother Elizabeth, her father Michael and her brother Corwin. One day, Meagan was playing with her cat Starweaver. She was excited. Soon it would be Midsummer Day, the longest day of the year. Meagan knew hat it was also called Litha. She and her family would celebrate all day with a picnic and a ritual at the farm that one of the coven members owned. Meagan had to be careful not to mention the word coven around her Gramma Lee and Granpa Scott because they were Christian and might get upset about Meagan and her family being pagan. Meagan wished that her grandparents understood how nice all the pagans that she knew were.

It was hot and Meagan was getting thirsty. She started back home to get a drink. On the way home she saw a woman in a nurse's uniform coming out of her friend Mrs. Hanson's house. Meagan slowed down. She had become friends with Mrs. Hanson after leaving a May basket on her porch. She wondered who the woman could be.

Meagan sped up and ran the rest of the way home. She raced up the stairs and into the kitchen. "Meagan!" said her father, "you know the rule about running. We only run outside where we aren't likely to get hurt if we fall down." Meagan stopped by the refrigerator. "I'm sorry Daddy. I saw a lady in a nurse's uniform down at Mrs. Hanson's house and I was going to call her and see who it was. I was coming home to get a drink anyway."

Michael nodded, "It was thoughtful of you not to stop at Mrs. Hanson's house. If she's sick, she might not want company. I tell you what...I'll call Mrs. Hanson while you get a drink." Meagan poured herself a big glass of herbal tea while her father went into his office to make the call. She looked for some cookies but didn't see any.

Just then, Meagan's mother came in the door carrying several net bags full of groceries. Meagan's family always used cloth or net bags at the grocery store to help save the earth's resources. "I'll help!" exclaimed Meagan running up to her mother. "I'd rather you went to the car and helped your brother bring in the rest of the bags please," said her mother. Meagan went outside and found Corwin testing bags to see which were heaviest. "Here," he said, "these are the perfect weight for you." Meagan took the bags and took them inside. She helped put up the groceries. Meagan wondered why her father had not come back and told her about Mrs. Hanson. She asked her mother if she could take Mrs. Hanson some cookies when they made a new batch. "Sure honey," said her mother, "that reminds me, we should probably make three batches tonight so that we'll have enough for the picnic on Saturday. In fact, you might ask Mrs. Hanson if she'd like to go on a picnic sometime with us. She isn't pagan and I don't she'd enjoy going to Litha"

"I'm afraid Mrs. Hanson isn't going anywhere for awhile," said Michael from the doorway, "I just talked to her on the phone. It seems that she's broken her leg. That's why she wasn't home last week, the doctor had her stay in the hospital so that it would heal better. She's home now, but he still wants her to take it easy. There's a nurse's aide who's going to come bathe her several days a week but she was wondering how she was going to get her meals. You know that she doesn't believe in convenience foods so I offered to bring over a helping of what ever we're having until she's back on her feet. I hope you don't mind." Elizabeth walked over and hugged him hard. She smiled up at him, "Why should I mind? You do most of the cooking! Besides, it was very kind of you to think of it."

So that night after dinner had been made Meagan and her brother ran down the road with some reusable containers. Corwin rang the doorbell twice and unlocked the door with the key that their mother had given him. "Hello! Mrs. Hanson?" he called into the house as they brought in their packages. "I'm back in the family room," they heard her call from the other end of the house. Corwin carefully locked the door behind them and put the key into his pocket. They carefully took their packages into the family room. There was Mrs. Hanson sitting in a recliner. She had a table on either side of her, a wheelchair near her and a TV remote in her hand. She smiled when she saw them. "I didn't know how serious your father was about his offer," she said, "I really appreciate you bringing me something to eat." Mrs. Hanson was surprised when she saw what they had brought her. They had a drink, some casserole, some vegetables and some cookies for dessert.

"We made lots of cookies today because we're going on a picnic on Saturday," said Meagan, "I wish that you could come but it's a family thing and mommy says that not just everyone can come." Mrs. Hanson smiled and patted Meagan's hand. "It's very sweet of you to offer but I don't think I'd feel like it right now anyway. I tell you what, after I'm feeling a little better, perhaps you and I and your friend Cindy could have a picnic on my patio." Meagan nodded. Mrs. Hanson said that she would call Elizabeth and Cindy's mother Anna when she felt up to fixing a picnic. Corwin smiled, "I'll do you one better, why not just let us know when you feel like eating out on the patio and we'll have a potluck picnic!" Mrs. Hanson frowned, "What is a potluck picnic?" "Oh!" said Meagan, "that's when everyone brings one thing that they are good at making. I like to bring ice tea but I have to make sun tea because I'm still not old enough to pour hot water over tea bags. I don't want to get burned." Mrs. Hanson thought that was a good idea.

Meagan and Cindy planned for their picnic so that they would be ready when Mrs. Hanson felt better. Soon she called their parents and made arrangements. They decided to have their picnic the Sunday after the Litha celebration. Soon it was Midsummer's Day. Meagan and her family packed up a picnic basket filled with good things to eat. They had brought yarn to make God's Eyes. Meagan and Corwin decided to look for sticks at the farm to make the God's Eyes. Meagan knew that they made God's Eyes to celebrate the sun at the height of its power. They spent the day playing, eating, singing and dancing. It didn't seem like very long before it was time for ritual. It seemed strange to have ritual while the sun was still up but Meagan's parents said that they would not be done until the sun went down. First the grownups all got dressed in their robes and went from field to field to bless the crops. Meagan and most of the other children stayed behind to set up the altar. They put candles in containers around the altar and helped put the smaller stones around the fire pit while one of the grownups put bigger stones.

One of the children had found a dead ash tree earlier in the day. Everyone was excited because they could make things from the wood without harming a living tree. Meagan and Corwin both had pieces of the tree to make a wand with. They brought them into the circle with them. Soon the other coven members began gathering. They were excited. Tonight they would also have a handfasting! Jeremy and Sybil had been handfasted for a year and a day at the last Litha celebration. Tonight they would be handfasted 'for as long as love shall last'. It was time for the ritual to begin.

Meagan was still very excited when it was time to go home. She had had a good time and she still had a picnic with Corwin, Cindy and Mrs. Hanson tomorrow! But it was very late and she fell asleep in the car on the way home. Her father carried her into the house and put her to bed. Starweaver curled up beside her and purred. It had been a good day.