rix_scaedu

Following on from Witching Hour I and II, this was also written to the Thimbleful Thursday prompt, "The Witching Hour."

Ghassan looked confusedly at the black-robed man who was standing on the other side of the counter. Outside the moon shone over the parking lot.

“I’m sorry sir,” Ghassan said firmly, “but I am working and I cannot leave the store unattended.” He had no idea where men wore that sort of robe, outside of a few movies, and this man’s manner ran nails down a chalkboard in Faisal’s head.

“Not even for your heart’s desire?”

“Sir, I think you should leave now.” Under the counter Ghassan’s long, brown fingers made a protective sign his superstitious grandmother had taught him.

The robed man stumbled backwards, looked startled, and left.