Sue’s given us plenty of scope for fun, mystery, magic or folklore with this week’s picture!
For visually challenged writers, the image shows a clouded sky beneath a full moon. There is a wordless sign showing only a pointed hat, of the kind often worn by wizards…
Mattie was always losing her hat.
In the old days, it would sit atop her broom in the corner, Cat curled up in the brush content and plump from a successful mousing spree.
Mattie didn’t like the new ways. Things weren’t the same, traditions were lost, and her hat joined them on numerous occasions.
Cat was useless at finding it, having adopted the box the new hoover came in for her bed.
The hat was Mattie’s saving grace, a reminder of her roots and who she was. It had belonged to her great granpappy, and he’d lived to be two hundred and two!
She was famous for her herbal potions and oils, her hat being her trademark.
Sometimes she felt like stapling it to her head, and that’s what gave her the idea.
The pub down the road was closed and boarded up now, so with a bit of jiggery pokery, she ‘borrowed’ the old sign and placing her hat in the centre, erected it in her front yard.
She smiled at her handiwork and cast a spell so that no-one would accuse her of theft.
Cat looked out from her box and yawned.