Suburban Witchery | Anna Szilagyi
At girlhood sleepovers,
we’d play games.
Not like makeovers,
or truth or dare.
We’d recite the story–
When Joetta pulls up in the bar’s desolate parking lot, she only sees a familiar red Ford bearing metal bumps and bruises and a silver Volvo she guesses belongs to Piper. The normally red, blinking OPEN on the front of the building stays gray but it doesn’t deter Joetta from…
The glamorous teenager at the front of the bus is making me anxious, to a greater extent than teenagers already normally do, even allowing for the added paranoia from the weed. Something about the composed way the girl is sitting — her back straight, no movement other than her…