Too Old To Believe

“Mum, I need money for the bus.”

Dorothy dried another mug.

“No you don’t, Toby. It isn’t raining; and the walk’s good for you.”

“I don’t want to walk past that old cottage. There’s a witch moved in with a warty nose and she’s got a black cat.”

“That’s nice.” She put away the last mug and closed the cupboard. “Did you stroke it?”

“It spat at me. Billy says it scratched Jason and he threw a stone at it and nobody’s seen him since.”

She folded the tea towel. “He probably has a cold.”

“Billy knocked for him. When his mum opened the door a frog hopped in from behind him and she screamed.”

Silly cow.

“Billy thinks it was Jason.”

Dorothy turned.

“You’re too old to believe in witches turning people into frogs. Go; you’ll be late.”

Around four-ish, she heard a bump outside. After a moment there was another bump.

“Is that you, Toby? Don’t tell me you’ve lost your key again.”

“Ribbit.”

Happy Halloween