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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “hello goodbye goodbye hello” Down in the Dirt (v132) (the October 2015 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

Order this writing in the book the Intersection the Down in the Dirt July - Dec. 2015 collection book		get the 318 page July - Dec. 2015 Down in the Dirt issue collection 6" x 9" ISBN# paperback book:

136 Wicker Lane

Allan Onik

    Julie unpacked the final box. Things were getting in order—:her glass vases, her lamps, her grandmother’:s china set, and just about all the items she had hauled up the old hill at the edge of town.
    “:Mommy Mommy wanna come play?”: Her daughter ran into the Master Suite holding a stuffed rabbit.
    “:Mommy has to dust now, Katelyn,”: Julie said, “:Why don’:t you play with your coloring books?”:
    “:I’:m playing hide and seek,”: the girl said.
    “:Oh, you’:ve made a friend already?”:
    “:Of course, Mommy. His name is Sam. But he’:s a bit sad.”:
    “:An imaginary friend? Well, have fun then. Mommy’:s tired.”:

    Julie picked up the sack of potatoes and put it in her shopping cart. A young woman with brunette hair wearing a leopard coat rolled her cart next to hers.
    “:Aren’:t you Julie, the resident of 136 Wicker Lane? That old Victorian?”:
    “:As a matter of fact I am—:got the house for a steal, actually. Why do you ask? I’:m new around here. Just got in from Philly for a teaching gig at Dairy High School—:I’:m an English Teacher.”:
    “:Are you? Well there’:s something the realtor didn’:t tell you. The townsfolk believe that the last resident of your house was a witch. It was said she dabbled in Purple Magic, making pentagrams and summoning evil spirits. She never left the house—:she grew her own food in the back gardens. It was the buzz of the town having a mystic doing her conjuring and spells up on the hill. But then it got serious. A young boy went missing. No older then 7 years—:one day there was just no trace of him. Everybody suspected the old witch, but the sheriff left her alone due to lack of evidence. One night a crowd gathered at her doorstep with torches, demanding to speak to her. When there was no answer at her door, they broke in—:but they weren’:t prepared for what they saw. Intricate pentagrams lined every surface of the walls, floors, and ceiling. And when they entered even further they found an anomaly in the basement. A void/portal that lead to a nether world—:what some suspected was an alternate dimension full of daemons and evil entities. The witch, whose name was Abatha, was nowhere to be found. The townsfolk believe she entered the portal, and sacrificed the boy for her gate.”:
    “:Oh my god,”: Julie said, “:I was wondering why the house was so cheap, with so much fresh paint. That’:s quite an elaborate tale. And my daughter’:s at home watching cartoons by herself!”:
    “:My suggestion—:move. Some properties are beyond redemption. Many in town think the old house should have been demolished. But when the bank took it back it was just business as usual.”:

    “:Mommy Mommy Sam likes SpongeBob!”:
    “:We’:re leaving this house in the morning,”: Julie said when she walked in the door, “:and we’:re going to start repacking our stuff.”:
    “:But why Mommy? Sam was beginning to cry less! He likes me.”:
    “:You can make a new friend when we move back to Philly. Come on now, get your stuff together.”:

    The two packed late into the night. “:Evil spirits? Daemons? I’:m not so sure. But this town is creeping me out,”: Julie said to herself as she finished wrapping a chair with laminate. She paused and pondered. “:Well, I suppose it wouldn’:t hurt.”: She crept down the stairs from the Master Suite, listening to her daughter pack her room in the distance. When she reached the door to the basement she opened it a crack and peered down—:beneath her it was pitch black. She used her cell phone for light, and descended the stairs. When she reached the bottom she smelt a crisp smell, like fresh rain. Suddenly a purple arc formed from the floor. It was the size of a large doorframe and full of fluid black ether—:surrounded by an aura that bent the dim light around it. An omniscient voice spoke to her:
    “:Curious are we? There is nothing to fear from a concentrated imbalance in The Field. You know, there is really nothing that can hurt you. There is no such thing as Hell, Daemons, or evil spirits. They exist only as a break from the natural. The Witch knew this. There is Pure Love watching you and every old soul within the bounds of eternity, Space, Time, and any dimension an old hag can conjure. Don’:t be afraid, sweet child. Step in. Let me help you.”:
    Julie paused. “:I don’:t know if I should,”: she said in the dark. But she felt drawn to its spectacle, as if her life was on a track that she couldn’:t control—:the spectacular meeting reality with a brush of fate. She walked into the gate.

    Suddenly Julie was in her English Class in Philadelphia. Her hand was on a piece of chalk. The freshman stared at her. And before she knew what she was saying she said: “:Don’:t forget to read your Lovecraft this weekend, essays due on Monday.”:

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