Down a long wooded dirt road there lives a witch in a secluded cottage. No, the cottage is not made of gingerbread. It is made from the bones of animals and humans. Notches are cut into the bones so that each bone fits snugly into the bone next to it. The bones have been carefully prepared and lacquered to give the house a gloss in the afternoon sun. The doors and windows have tiny bones meshed decoratively into each other. Flourishes rise up the sides of the cottage, leading to a widow’s walk of exhusbands. Some of the husbands were gentle and loving, and those bones she put to the front so she can always be reminded of them. The cruel, uncaring husbands’ bones are used as connective material, out of sight, covered by a putty-like substance that is of her own making. Please do not ask what it is made from. For a witch, she is a pleasant-looking woman with small, brittle bones surrounded by several layers of fat that give her a grandmotherly look. Her hair is coarse and cut bluntly to her shoulders. The color is a reddish, blondish grey, with dark greasy spots marking where she had laid her head the night before. Her facial features are delicate, with a small pug nose, huge almond eyes, and full lips, the bottom one making her look pouty. Her clothes are simple and second-hand. No clotheshorse, this witch. She uses the clothes she collects from her visitors who never leave. She can always find room for another set of bones. Currently she is thinking about building an extension to the cottage, although she does worry about losing the well-planned flow of the house. A garden is situated to the right of the house. Here she grows herbs for her brews and vegetables for her stews. Long stalks of corn have about ripened. Soon she will take her scythe to the plants. The day we arrive, the stone path that leads to the front door is slick. She has just finished watering the lawn and cleaning off the path. Her home is very tidy. As we walk the path, please look out for the squiggly snakes that like to bask in the sun. Most of the snakes are harmless. One or two are poisonous and quite large, but they are also lazy, and I’m sure you’ll be able to outrun them. When you climb the steps to the front door, you’ll see a brass knocker. It is the shape of a twisted braid of garlic. A memento from when she was trying to get rid of her third husband. No, you’ll not find his bones here. Actually, you’ll probably not find him within a million miles of this house. The break-up was not amicable. Carefully lift the bottom bulb of the knocker and gently rap it against the door. She has sensitive hearing, and you don’t want to irritate her before you even get to meet her. And, by the way, IT will be in view as soon as she opens the door. Very proud she is of IT. Yes, yes, she’s at home. I can hear her oversized shoes shuffling across the floor. This is the time of day when she usually cleans. She’ll be shaking out her bed covers and dusting the few pieces of furniture. The mirror on the hall wall she always keeps covered. A fine silk scarf dangles from the top edges of the mirror’s frame. Note the frame when you go in. Bone and teeth speckle the frame. She has painted them delightful colors that shine in the dark. Don’t dawdle! I must insist you rap now before I rush off to hide myself. “Rap, rap, rap.” The shuffling feet are coming nearer. I must now depart.