During the full moon, after midnight, a shape flew through it, that was not a plane.

Griselda landed in her usual parking spot and set the lock spell. It was a new broom with a nice big basket and she didn’t want anyone to get ideas.

She didn’t feel like shopping, but it really must be time. Gwendolyn really was a nice lady and she felt sorry for her.

The doors whisked open and revealed a wonderland.

A young man stood near the entrance, handing out sale circulars.

“Welcome to Witch, Warlock, and More. May I help you find anything?”

Griselda sighed and took the circular. The young man pushed her a cart.

“Thank you, dearie,” she said.

***

“Griselda!” a voice screeched from the reptile area.

“Hello, Endora.”

Endora shuffled over to give her friend a peck on the cheek. “So sad about Gwendolyn, isn’t it?”

“Awful. Such a long life.”

“What are you looking for?”

Griselda produced a list from her dress pocket.

“Candles. Linens. Sage. And I need something to wear.”

Endora’s newt appeared from her hair.

“Neville is having problems with his eyes, poor fella. I needed ointment for him. And I’m bringing some soothing herbs for the ritual.”

Endora’s attention was suddenly siezed.

“Ah - there is Tabitha,” she said and waved a hand. “I hope she doesn’t talk our ears off.”

“Griselda, Endora — I guess you are here because of our dear Gwen? Such a shame, don’t you think?”

The trio did enjoy shopping at WW&M. A one-stop shop for all their needs. Amazon wouldn’t deal in their realm and Griselda often wondered if that could even be done. So shopping had to be done the old-fashioned way, even in 2022.

Griselda filled her cart. A new frock and hat; some treats and a new heat lamp for her fenny snake, Bartholomew; replacement cauldron spoons; candles and linens; sage.

She loaded the broom basket with her items, and disappeared the same way through the moon.

***

The day had come. The wake was full of witches and warlocks. The little black coffin was set on a table in the middle of the room, candles surrounding it, along with flowers and photos.

Gwendolyn sat nearby, accepting condolences the best should could, but clearly barely holding it together.

“He was the best familiar a witch could ask for, Gwen dear.”

“I can only imagine your pain.”

“He’s in a better place.”

“You gave him the best forever home a cat could ask for.”

After the wake, the witches departed on their brooms to the Familiar Shelter. Because even witches prefer to adopt.