Friday, June 10, 2016

It’s going to be a hot summer. Already I’m working dawn to breakfast and then it’s indoors. After four too dark.

Cooler that was.

I was mushy in the rat eaten middle management chair yesterday waiting out the heat and got to thinking I was a sorcerer. Somehow I convinced a pretty good guy to come to the woods and manage my timber company – as a sorcerer I was reclaiming sunken logs from the bottoms of the lakes and rivers in the upper peninsula of Mi.

I was getting tired of handling that line of work, but it was so lucrative I didn’t want to turn it loose. He’d agreed and I was out fitting him in rough clothes of the area and telling him to say nothing and do nothing to speak of his back ground, which was law enforcement. I didn’t want the local witches to realize that he knew a sorcerer, him being an insipient sorcerer himself, which they would suspect but they knew I was one.

Somehow it was required that a witch needed a sorcerer to activate her wand when the coven judged her ready to become a full witch.

No. No. None of your sex stuff. Just the beings way of arranging things.

Anyway. This guy wasn’t trained as a sorcerer and hadn’t an idea how powerful a full blown witch could be and there was no telling, what with the shortage of sorcerers about what seven witches without wands would do to him, what with the animosity among those with and those without.

I really needed to train this guy in some basics and let him be the sorcerer for the coven while I went about my business.

Well, sir. To make a long story short I equipped the guy in the local garb and wished I could sorcerer him into a cloak or sweater to allow the poor sod to disappear into the woods about him:


But then the guy was a big city cop before he retired and probably wouldn’t wear the thing.


From the Reaches,

Ten  Whiskey

About tenwhiskey

User tenwhiskey is also the author of this blog. He currently lives in small town Kansas in a semi-retired condition. His kids are married and gone (thank you). An empty nester. Divorced. Very happy with life as it is. Ten Mile maintains a personal blog here, writing of events as they appear to him; commentary, and opinions abound. He deviates into fiction as the mood strikes and creates flash fiction stories and short stories. He will not warn the reader when he drifts from fact to fiction. He feels adults are, generally, smart enough to figure out which is which. He does, however, attempt to make his fiction sound as true to life as possible. You have been warned. He, as time permits, writes and occasionally sells writing. More often than not he gives it away to various non-paying publishers of Ether Magazines, forums or for entertainment on a wall for in need of a hand friends. He likes candy, pies and a certain amount of strife. In the matter of strife - in his yourth on the farm, he became embroiled in a slinging fight. The fight involved lath as a launcher, fresh cow patties as ammo and it was a six way free for all. A little mud only adds (Umm?) a certain taste to life.
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