by Copper Rose
Jackie shoved her hands in her pockets, stared at her reflection in the store window, hot sun beating down on her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath, forced it back out. She scuffed one foot along the cement sidewalk, watched an ant skitter away from the dirt in the crack. Something tugged at her to move, to go to work. She needed the job, needed the money. She scuffed the other foot and studied her reflection again.
The spell Eugenia had cast rendered it impossible for her to make up her mind.
Jackie pulled her hands from her pockets, stared at her reflection in the store window.
The ant skittered back, crawled over the toe of her shoe.
About the author
Copper Rose perforates the edges of the page while writing unusual stories from the heart of Wisconsin. She also understands there really is something about pie.