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Witch Weekly · December 23, 2019 – 3:52 AM

Missed Connections
Room At The Inn You were working two days ago at a wizarding inn. You probably shouldn’t be working there, really, because you spilled soup in my lap. I left too quickly to tell you that I forgive you, and in fact would like to see you again. If you are so inclined, you may find me at The Leaky Cauldron in the evenings, wearing a blue coat. I’ll make a joke and spill my drink on you, we’ll call ourselves even, and then be great friends. A Novel Moment To the dark-haired wizard doing his Christmas shopping at Flourish & Blotts who took the last copy of Miss Isolde Bennett’s most recent book from the shelf before I could get to it: I do not despise you for it, for you have wonderful literary taste, and I only pray it was not a gift for your sweetheart. If his sister receives this gift or someone knows a man such as he, please inform him the girl in the yellow scarf is waiting to be his heroine.	’Tis The Season We have met many a time before, and do not get along even a little bit. I am horrible to your face, and make fun of you to everyone I know, but I cannot hold it in any longer: I do not hate you at all. I love you. Be mine. Send me an owl anytime. Goose On The Loose There has been a goose loose on the streets of Irvingly all week terrorising the place monstrously. It has now stolen my house keys, and a slipper, and trampled through all the gardens. The neighbours are blaming me! Be warned: if you do not rescue your goose I shall roast him and eat him for Christmas dinner. Voice Of An Angel I overheard you singing Silent Night to yourself and oh! A hundred choirs could not be as beautiful as you. I did not wish to interrupt, but I hid around the corner and listened for as long as I dared. If only I could find your face in the streets now! Please come a-caroling in Bartonburg — I will be listening, and would know your voice anywhere.	Mulling Over Wine We were once close, and are no longer — but I thought I saw you at the Christmas stalls in the park drinking mulled wine. Our eyes met, but I did not have the courage to come talk to you as you were surrounded by your friends, and we both know they would not like me. Tell me you like me still. I bought something for you at the stalls but will only send it if you write to me first. Brain Damage After the disaster at the candle-lighting, you came to the hospital with horrendous scars all over you. You are much recovered now, but I am still suffering: I can’t get you out of my mind. Please visit my ward at St. Mungo’s once more to repair my injuries and reintroduce yourself. (I work on Thursdays.)
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