Wanda Warmheart didn't want to be a witch, one day she just woke up and was.
Wanda wandered down the way wiggling her ears and whistling. Wanda didn't know any other girls who could wiggle their ears, and few who could whistle well. Wanda felt that the two things together were a fine way to while away the time while walking, but by next week she wanted to work in juggling as well.
Wanda walked along waving her hands at trees, certain that eventually she would find one which would open to reveal a wondrous world. A world which would welcome Wanda Warmheart and appreciate her witchy ways.
Wanda liked trees. You always knew where you were with a tree. Trees went down into the earth, they went up into the sky, they gave off oxygen and positive energy. They stayed put; despite what wags sometimes whispered. Trees were dependable. Wanda was a tree hugging witch. A white magic witch. Not the other kind. Wanda felt cackling and eating small children who gobbled the latticework round your wainscoting would be icky. And Wanda didn't do icky.
Wanda's nose, unbidden, paused Wanda in her walking to inhale a wonderful smell wafting from a nearby dell still wet with dew.
Wanda wrestled the weeds aside and wriggled through the wet undergrowth in search of the source of the beguiling aroma.
What met Wanda's widened eyes was wondrous. Wanda pinched herself lightly; willing herself not to waken if what was before her was a lucid dream.
The solid looking woman adjusting the logs on the fire wrested all doubt from her mind that the scene in front of Wanda's wide eyes and wider nostrils was real. No vision could be that beautiful. No smell that alluring, and since no one could possibly sleep through the amount of drool currently filling her mouth without drowning on their pillow; Wanda concluded that she must
be awake .
This woman looked like she knew the secrets of the universe. And Wanda had some questions. Oh yes, lots of questions. Questions about caterpillars and ghosts and zombies and why cooked pudding gets a skin but the kind you buy ready made in the store doesn't, so many, many questions about the wild workings of the wonderfully wide worlds.
The woman looked up at her and smiled, then looked off to the side and said:
"Oh dear, and before you even get to eat…."
Wanda? Wanda…. WANDA!…. Miss Flotsum's voice finally penetrated and Wanda came together with a whap unheard by the classmates in the rows surrounding her desk.
"Yes, Miss Flotsum?"
"I asked if you could please go to the board and solve the problem."
Wanda slid out of her seat and squelched to the chalkboard, worked at the problem for a bit and came up with 42. She squelched back to her seat, everyone in the room noting her wet shoes and the muddy knees of her jeans. Wanda knew that soon she'd be able to keep the connection longer and then she'd get some answers to her questions about the myriad worlds she slid into with ease. But for now, she figured it wouldn't hurt to learn a little more math to help her along the path to her witchy ways.