Monday 7 November 2005

Knight of the Witch (part III - Will this be the third and final part?)

...Continued from Knight of the Witch (part II)

 The journey back was almost free of incident, which made a nice change. The flying creature had disappeared somewhere. Probably terrorising suburbia... My "passenger" remained unresponsive to several more jabs in the ribs and a headbutt to the small of his back. The headbutt was an accident, of course. It was! I was almost home when a gigantic moth flew straight into my open mouth, practically forcing its way down my throat. Naturally, I reared back in surprise losing my handhold and smashed the back of my head into his spinal column. Immediately I swung forwards, narrowly avoiding severe whiplash, and hacked up the furry thing, spitting it over my left shoulder. Bleugh! I can still taste it now...

 Lightly grazing the cherry tree on the landing approach - some might say "crashing through" but they weren't there so they can't comment - I persuaded the broom that a controlled skid on the lawn was much less damaging than careering into the raised patio. The naked man rolled off and ended up facing the night sky. I was going to avert my eyes but the blanket had rolled with him, a corner of which was just about covering his indecency.

 I was wondering whether to gather up him or my bags first, when he moved. Hooray! I hadn't killed him! Stooping next to him, my hand on his (rather impressive) chest, I leaned in to ask if he could move. Without warning, he grabbed my wrist and leapt to his feet, the blanket falling to the grass... Naturally, I looked. And kept on looking. Gosh!

 "Aaccchhh" he said. What?

 "Hoccchhhh" he added. What was he trying to say?

 "Haaackk". Then I noticed what looked like dust around his mouth.

 Drat. I'd spat the moth straight into his mouth and now he was choking on it. The landing must have wedged it further down his throat. I didn't know the Heimlich manoeuvre so I did the only thing I could and punched him in the stomach. The now damp moth rocketed out of his mouth as he doubled over and hit me square in the forehead. A man can have too much of moist ejecta hitting him in the face, you know...

 My "guest" straightened up, realised he was starkers and covered himself using both hands. He really needed three so you can imagine how pleased I was that evolution had seen fit to supply humans with only two!

 Anyway, to cut a long story short, I ushered him in the back door (no innuendo intended - witches never use the front door. Except to torment travelling salesmen), gave him a cup of tea and some clothes that he only just squeezed into. Not on purpose - he was very fit and I'm only slender. After we'd both relaxed in each others company for a while and I'd hinted at how he got to mine, he told me something rather interesting.

 I think that maybe being a witch in this day and age might be rather exciting. I'll tell you what he said another day. Suffice it to say that the "Knight of the Witch" title will make more sense...

 Ta ta for now!

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