FEATURED STORY
Le Sociere (The Witch)
by Lori Hendricks
The eerie swirl of cold, damp fog was thick enough to taste. It came in fast, faster than normal, devouring all light, before
anyone caught in its grasp could register what was happening. Time appeared frozen. Hamilton could feel his consciousness
drifting away through the holes in his flesh where the bullets tore through his body. He tried to focus his mind, telling God
how sorry he was for squandering his life, and lamenting his wasted youth—all the years spent doing any and everything
wicked. Hamilton closed his eyes, and prepared to fire his gun one last time, alerting the hunters to his whereabouts.
He took what he figured to be his last deep breath, staggered to his feet, and froze. Hamilton felt her presence, then he saw
her face. She was as beautiful as she’d been in his dreams. Her chocolate brown skin, deep dark brown eyes, and long curly
black hair half-hidden by her silken scarf were so familiar to him. He could even smell the scent of her perfume though she
wasn’t close enough to do so.
Aware of his impending death, he reached for her, as he’d never had the courage to do in his dreams. She walked over to
him, cocking her head to one side, in a movement better suited for a cat. She stared into his eyes, and he was certain she could
see into his soul. He felt his fear and pain begin to dissipate. Hamilton moved to take a step toward her, this woman from his
dreams, wanting only to touch her and convince himself she was really there. But he was unable to move under the weight of
her stare. He stood motionless and waited for the vision to speak to him.
“I have been watching you. Why have you come here, Hamilton?”
The question, asked with the thick French accent that evidenced her Haitian Creole heritage, was so simple; but held so
much meaning. What was he doing there? Hamilton didn’t know, couldn’t answer. Her voice was low and sultry, at complete
odds with the purity and serenity in her face. She took a step toward him, and then another … until she was standing before
him. She reached up and laid her palm against his cheek, tears forming in her eyes.
“I ask again, Hamilton, why have you come to this place?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but the resonance of emotion in her voice was too much for Hamilton’s ears. He tried to pull away from her. He hated himself for contaminating her
loveliness with his futility. No sounds could be heard around them, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the hunters
found