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Page 25
arms forming hairline cracks in the fabric of the night. Surrounding everything was an aura of power the likes of which she had never felt.
Replacing the card, Paula got up and went to the calendar on the wall over the sink. On the top of the calendar was a picture of a woman in a peaked hat, riding on a broom in front of a yellow moon. Perched like a hood ornament on the front of the broom handle was a black cat. Over the witch's face, she had pasted a carefully cut-out photo of her own face in profilePaula's idea of a little joke.
Paula ran her fingers over the numbers on the bottom: 15 . . . 16 . . . 17 . . . Down and down until she reached the number 31.
"Halloween? Why am I not surprised?"
She picked up a black crayon and circled the thirty-first.

 
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