calling to all the other old grannies
for an emergency prayer meeting.
“Come! We’ve been bewitched!”
I stood there, my shit burning
in the driveway, my poor aged
grandmother tottering up and down
the street in a panic, and I didn’t
know what to do. I knew there was
no demon, but there was no way I
could come clean. The hiding I
would have to endure? Good Lord.
Honesty was never the best policy
when it came to a hiding. I kept
quiet.
Moments later the grannies
came streaming in with their Bibles,
through the gate and up the