“In my opinion, yes, and no.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Just this: I learned the hard way that when people say, it can’t get any worse than this, it always can. Things can always get worse, no matter how bad they are. And this is not the worst worse it could be.”
“Hmmm. That doesn’t sound like much of an endorsement for the Apostles.”
“I worship the Goddess, myself. The Goddess, and the Horned King. And I don’t mean Satan.”
“Are you a Wiccan?”
“High Priestess.”
“I can see that.” Dana looked around the small cabin where they sat drinking something green and delicious. There were five-pointed stars and chalices and a dagger and antlers and other Wiccan objects woven carefully and discreetly into the décor. On a small shelf above the sink were candles, including a black one, fresh flowers, and other objects. “Is that an alter?” Dana asked, pointing.
“Yes it is, how did you know?”
“I’m a bit of a Wiccan myself. But I lean more toward the Shamanistic aspects of Wiccanism.”
“Well met. Blessed be.”
“Well met. Blessed be. What kind of smoothie is this?”
“A green drink smoothie, full of fresh mints, lambsquarters, St. Johnswort, and other herbs. The base is frozen and fresh pineapple with a little mango and coconut.”
“I love it. Thank you.”
“It’s soothing and refreshing on such a hot evening.” Dana nodded happily. They sat in silence for a few moments, enjoying their drinks. The boat rocked gently on the waves and the air conditioner hummed faintly.
A sudden shattering broke the stillness.
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