2007 BACK DOOR MAGIC Phaedra Weldon The fire spark blew her a raspberry before vanishing in a black puff of sooty smoke. Brenda blinked a few times in the abrupt darkness before grabbing up at the flashlight perched handle up on the table. Since when did elementals have a sense of humor? The evening shadows, elongated at that moment, stretching their hollow limbs into the crevices of the store's tall shelves. A row of authentic skulls, nestled among a neglected Halloween decoration of dried autumn leaves and miniature pumpkins, all illuminated by the streetlight outside, peered down at her from the top shelf near the cash register. I never asked Granny to whom those belonged—maybe those are the skulls of hapless idiots like myself who thought they could make money at magic. They starved to death. Maybe this wasn't such a bad thing—sitting here in the dark. At last she couldn’t see the deed of sale spread out on the table in front of her. She didn't really need to see it to know what it said.
