Western Walkabout: The Witch, The Wood Elf And The Dragon – 1
Richard Harris begins a love story for children over 40 with a question. Does age really matter?
Watch out for further episodes of this story.
LOVE STORY
Skye was a truly gorgeous little witch, with a figure to die for. She was three thousand years old and enjoyed great spell skills as well as people skills. Unfortunately, her heart seemed to have a will of its own and she fell vastly in love with Woodward, one of the short-lived tree elves.
Woodward was 73 when they met and already had been surgically enhanced several times.
“Mother Moon,” she groaned into her magic mirror, “What have I done, what chance has this relationship, given this huge age gap?”
“Pull yourself together, girl,” responded the mirror. “It’s a question of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.”
“So what are you saying, magic mirror?”
“I’m saying that you should take control. Woody is in good nick for his species. He hasn’t overindulged like a lot of males in his age group. I’ve noticed that he is oddly protective of you, that he respects you, and that he is kind and affectionate.”
The mirror continued: “You are just a little down because your cat has died and your daughter has left you to go to that bastard and his new tart” – the mirror was referring to Skye’s ex.
“Mirror, stop,” exclaimed Skye. “I’ve no regrets. Let’s move on.”
“Okay,” sighed the Mirror. “My suggestion is you get your granny’s old grimoire down from the attic. I seem to remember she had an appendix dealing with trans-species life extension. Give Mother Nature a helping hand and extend Woody’s life-span rather than wait in vain for another 3000 years for a Mr Perfect who’ll never come.”
That night when Woodward came to dinner, Skye served him coq au vin with a tossed green salad. She had made a chewy bread using a recipe deciphered from a column in a tomb on a recent trip to Egypt. She handed him a large glass of Beaujolais and toasted him in Gaelic, in words that translated as your good health, your very good health.
“Better for you than one of those anemic whites, my pet,” she told him.
After dinner she led him to a pentagram on her tiled floor and carefully removed his clothes. Then she removed her own garments and sat down with him in a pool of moonlight.
“This is a most beneficial treatment, pet,” she told the bemused elf.
She poured a tiny glass of liqueur and dipped her nipples into it, then offered them to Woodward “Bailey’s Irish cream, my darling.”
I would tell you more about this story but the truth is both Skye and Woodward were old enough to know better and what they did together naked in the moonlight would astonish most modern teenagers and would only make you readers blush.
