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Introduction <ul><li>Each of these accounts are based on real world experiences, </li></ul><ul><li>Written by people like you telling their story…… </li></ul><ul><li>Each contributor will shares proceeds from any future commercial deal should these insights germinate into something. </li></ul><ul><li>Send your story to: firstname.lastname@example.org </li></ul><ul><li>Note: Names have been changed to protect identity. </li></ul>
Maggie <ul><li>I was drinking moderately in a bar ( The Windmill, Clapham) London a few years ago. A lady approached me at 10:30 pm. I have no memory of what happened that night but found myself walking along Battersea Park road holding her hand at 5am! I promised to meet her again at Ormes wine bar the following Saturday, 7.30pm. Her name was Maggie. </li></ul>
Ormes Wine Bar <ul><li>Saturday night arrived. Maggie was waiting for me. We entered the restaurant which now was busy. It had just won the Evening Standard Wine Bar of the Year Award . One table was free. I sat facing the window, my new friend facing the teeming restaurant. Everyone was chatting happily. Suddenly Maggie started to cry, sobbing uncontrollably, and then hysterically . Mascara ran down her beautiful face. Maggie could not speak with grief. I was getting dagger looks from the waiting staff and clients. Everyone assumed I had obviously said something bad to my friend. </li></ul>
What’s up Maggie? <ul><li>I kept saying to her, “ Maggie, what’s wrong, what on earth is the matter?” I was amazed to see this sudden change in her. </li></ul><ul><li>Eventually she confided in broken syllables that three of the men sitting at a table at the far end of the restaurant had burned her as a witch in a previous life! She could not eat and wanted to leave the restaurant. I ordered a taxi for her and decided to terminate the friendship forever. Her surname in French meant murderer! I dismissed her as a utter fruit-cake! </li></ul>
12 months later <ul><li>Over the following months I met a new girl, Sue from Slovenia. Sue was great company, full of life, energy, laughter. </li></ul><ul><li>One day we were visiting my brother's friends at The Fedup Café in Vauxhall, London. </li></ul><ul><li>We arrived at the restaurant late, 9pm. Unfortunately there were only two seating spaces left around one long table with about twenty guests. We were separated, Sue sitting next to my brother. This was OK as Sue knew most of the people around the table. </li></ul>
Maggie was back! <ul><li>To my surprise Maggie was back, sitting next to my spare seat at the other end of the table! She had maintained contact with my brother somehow. I sat next to her; we talked and talked. I could see Sue was happy, chatting and laughing with everyone also. Hours passed. Suddenly Sue staggered over to me, holding her stomach in anguish, crying out “ That Witch [ next to me] was killing her!” </li></ul>
Back Garden <ul><li>Sue ran to the rear of the restaurant, out the back door and down the garden path like a cat on mustard. I followed in disbelief. It was a dark drizzly night with a bright moon dancing between fast moving clouds. I put my arm around Sue who now was bent-over in extreme agony. She kept saying that the women beside me was a witch and that they knew about these people in Slovenia. She was not acting. </li></ul>
Warning Shot <ul><li>As I tried to comfort Sue, Maggie approached us both. She ignored me completely. She pointed to Sue and said ”You deserved that!” Her voice was chillingly cold. She looked hard, ash-faced, angry. Sue & I left the restaurant immediately. We drove miles before the pain disappeared from Sue’s stomach. Sue left London the following day. Both ladies disappeared from my life forever. </li></ul>
Dec. 27, 2008
stories about witches, based on real world experiences