Short & Stout

Having done this before I convinced myself that nerves were unusual but not unexpected. I felt Jerri before my shop door opened. Her energy was crisp and bubbly. I could feel something else mixed with her energy something odd. The last time I felt odd energy with Jerri we had to figure out how to release a trapped lothario’s spirit back to 1800s. Beaming Jerri stood in the doorway. Her blonde locs were pulled into a messy bun and around her neck with many colorful necklaces. In the middle of her Hawaiian shirt, overalls, and rainbow chucks jerri carried a teapot. Not another one.

I nearly dropped my feather duster. Jerri was quivering with excitement. Mrs. Gibbs was browsing for the perfect birthday gift for her daughter.

“So I’ve narrowed it down to Forever Single and Loving It or Last Chance Love. What do you think Prof. Crawford?”

I had a sudden image of Mrs. Gibbs having a screaming match with a younger version of herself in a nice restaurant. I blinked away the vision and stared into Mrs Gibbs’ eyes.

“You could take both or …”

Jerri added “Or you can take neither and get your daughter a beautiful handmade journal and a nice fountain pen and encourage her to finish her novel.”

Quickly Jerri and Mrs. Gibbs picked out one of my pricy journals and Jerri gift wrapped it while I rung up the purchase.

“Are you psychic?” I asked. “How did you know about her daughter or the book or—“

Jerri’s laughter cut my sentence and made my heart race.

“I don’t have visions. I have a mother and a working brain. If she bought me a book on my single status I would freak the hell out. So what do you feel?”

Jerri thrusted her pot in his face. Blue and white with pink flowers, I grabbed the teapot. Our fingers touched and we froze for a moment looking into each other.

“I’m a warlock. I don’t feel anything.” The hell I don’t. I set down the tea pot examining it carefully. No mystical symbols no vibrations just a spout and a lid on a nice tea pot.

“So what do we have a hellmouth or a cuppa to go with my diggie biscuits?” I asked.

“Well not a hellmouth just a teapot that may predict when and how you die. Jaime you’re white as a sheet.” Jerri flipped the closed sign on my bookstore door and headed to the back of my shop. “ I think you need some tea but not from that pot.” I stared at the teapot and backed away.

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