Offscreen

Beth meandered through the many blueberry groves, lost in their intricacies. The sun was slowly setting, with a orange haze falling over her. She hadn't eaten since breakfast, and the many blueberries surrounding her seemed to be an inviting treat.

"I know the sign at the front of the farm said not to eat them, but they look so delicious..." Beth cusped a bundle of berries in her hand. The prospect of eating them only grew more tempting. In a sudden jerk, she picked the berries. with curiosity, and hunger, she bit into one.

A witch's tea party is a much more complicated affair than your average get together. I don't mean that in an arrogant, "Oh you mundane folk just can't understand the ways of magic" sort of way. I am speaking quite literally: older witches use these gatherings as a way to judge an evaluate their peers on multiple levels. Choice of tea and food, sipping versus slurping, how one crosses their legs; all these things supposedly display hidden truths that the senior practitioners of witchcraft will analyse and discuss with great enthusiasm as soon as the younger ones go home.

Laying atop the bookshelf by the door, Victoria's cat rested peacefully in her apartment.  His owner out on a date, he was enjoying a quiet afternoon.

At least he had been.

The door suddenly flung open angrily, it sent shivers through the house as Victoria smashed it shut.  "The nerve of that guy!  Staring at that billboard like that!"

Johnny and Emma were a couple. They loved each other and couldn't keep thier hands off each other. Johnny was a fine country lad, strong, handsome, 18, and slim. Emma was a hot city girl, curvy, sexy, 17, and had nice breasts. They were inseparable, and were almost never seen apart. Both of them had a soft spot, a weakness: sweets. When they were together, there was always something sugary between them. It had its affects: a little puffing up, but nothing to bad. Just a little glow, but niether of them cared; they weren't dating each other only for their bodies.