Painting, by Caspar David Friedrich
The theme words are: Dawn sunset worship magic power regal
My friend Miss Marble was a magical person. Well she was a witch so it was part of her persona. Her power was stunning when so moved and she had demonstrated it so many times to us on Grimace Street that she was not someone to be taken lightly as some had discovered to their detriment.
To anyone passing by she was a little old lady living quietly in 46 Grimace Street along with her beautiful old hound Sal. She wasn’t exactly regal, more together within herself with a wicked sense of humour. She would have turned you into something decidedly nasty should you have suggested she be worshiped but rather was happy to be respected for who she was. As she’d say: “Respect me and I respect you.” And that worked perfectly for all of us long term Grimace Street residents.
I was lucky in that I could spend many an afternoon on her veranda and talk about all sorts of things from the weather to the happenings in the street.
She used to say to me it was shame I didn’t go further in school as she liked the way I thought. “You could have been a doctor,” she’d say.
“I like being your basic person.” I would say and she’d hrrump and go on about opportunity.
Miss Marble was always into learning new things. Technology fascinated her. Computers held her spellbound and I’m sure she wondered where she might have been had such a wonder existed as she grew up. As it was she spent hours writing up a digital record of all her spells. She also invented an anti-hacking spell which prevented anyone from trying to hack into her spells. Of course there is always someone determined to try and Archibald Johnson did try and discovered his computer turned into a hairy rat. He tried several times, computers aren’t cheap as we know but he was determined, you had to give him that, until Miss Marble knocked on his door and after a quiet word with him, he was content to research quantum physics.
She loved the dawn as it was an opportunity for her to stride down the street, Sal, at heel and take in the refreshing morning air. Sunsets were a time for sitting and reflecting, often with me and often with a glass or two of her own home made wine which she cheekily labeled “Witches Brew”. It was good stuff and two glasses were enough to get you relaxed and ready for bed. I always slept well after a sitting with Miss Marble. She’d never say what was in it but I doubted a grape was part of the potion she disguised in an old wine bottle. But we’d sip away, our heads getting lighter and our laughter more pronounced as she’d tell more and more stories of her past and she had quite an extensive past. She’d been around a while I have to say.
Then she’d look at her watch and bid me goodnight, go inside, lock the door and leave me to find my own way out the front gate and across the road to my house.
She may not be regal but she’s the most serene woman I know.