The Realm and the Writer

Eliza Appleby was tall and slender, with a swan like grace and butterfly hands. The skirt she wore was of simple black crushed velvet and the corset atop was adorned with glittery celestial bodies in purples, blues and golds. She rushed down her front steps pulling a pitch velvet cloak up over her honey-brown hair, contrary to the sunny humid weather. She carried a basket overflowing with lavender, foxgloves, basil, and cloves and along side her strode a very talkative ginger dappled cat.

Ms. Appleby hurried along down Mistwood way to Mr. and Mrs. LeBeau's residence. Almost there, along the dirt road, she kept her eyes sharply upon the old Sutton place. She could feel the cosmic vibrations radiating outward and knew something was awry. Without hesitation she scooped up the chattering fur ball at her feet and place it gently into the basket. Mrs. LeBeau was fanning herself nervously in her porch swing when Ms. Appleby arrived.

"Oh thank the heaven's you've arrived Eliza," Mrs. LeBeau was a slightly portly woman and her breath was labored by the heat and her excitement,"I haven't yet seen that cat of theirs and there hasn't been a sound, accept for the arrival of the dear Mr. Sones. Oh, I hope they haven't killed the poor man."

"Now, now Margaret, you know how you get. This could be no different than last year's migration." Ms. Appleby had lifted the cloak from her head and strode into the Lebeau's residence with Mrs. Lebeau eagerly in tow.

Mrs. Lebeau chattered on behind her as she pulled various oils, drafts, and supplies from the cupboards, "Well you know the migration was a rough one, those bats were evil I tell you." Eliza hardly heard her as she hurried out of the kitchen and up the stairs, brushing past Mr. LeBeau on the way. She found the room with the balcony and slowed herself as she walked out to it. She left Mrs. LeBeau silent in the room and closed the door behind her.

She waited and watched, all the while grinding herbs and such with a mortar and pestle. She was waiting for that moment, when she felt the pull the strongest. The sun had almost completely set as she scooped a small handful out and blew it, sparking, into the air. As if called by the event the small grey tabby appeared upon the steps and took a seat. Eliza turned quickly and rushed through the house towards the front door.

"What is it Eliza? What's happened?" Mrs. LeBeau struggled after her anxious to hear the news.

"It's back Margaret. I'm going to go see what it wants." And with that she flung the cloak about her shoulders and slipped out the front door.



Art by Danielle Cavanagh