She was a witch. She had claimed to be one for all the years we were together. There was on doubt she was a witchy bitch. She’d follow me around the house, and when I reached the bathroom she’d say: “I know what you are going to do!” When I’d exit, she’d be waiting outside and say: “I know what you just did!” It was uncanny how often she knew this stuff. But I was finally at a point of testing her. The old witches test I was putting into action. She laughed at my idea, ridiculed me, and goaded me into trying it out. So when the day came I pushed her towards the pool, I grabbed her shirt and lowered her over the water all the while listening to her now cackle of hysteria as I dropped her neared the water. Then I let go and she quickly sunk to the bottom. I was terrified as I saw the life of my one great love sinking before me. Then the water began to bubble, steam erupted from the surface as she shot out of the pool and hovered in the air above me before slowly descending to stand before me, her toes against my own, her now wet breasts outlined beneath her dripping shirt. With her nipples more erect than ever and up against me, she said: “You believe me now?”
I looked into her dark green eyes betraying her love for me and amongst many things gulped.