I know all about witches, not the sort children dress up as for Halloween, white witches in tune with the seasons, the old ways, wheel of the year, Beltane etc. and of course it’s nearly Samhain now, Halloween. The white witches could help me with my new herb garden and I needed a new interest while Graham’s busy with his steam trains. I hoped there were still places left on the U3A Modern Witchcraft, beginners. ‘Ladies, as the nights draw in why not join your local Coven.’

I turned up at the new community centre, certainly nothing creepy about that brightly lit place. We were a mixed bunch, a lot of nervous chatter as we waited to see who was leading the session. There were no chairs so that eliminated the problem of where to sit.

‘Welcome Ladies.’

We were taken by surprise, we hadn’t seen anyone come in. We turned to see a motherly figure of indeterminate age.

‘People have all the wrong ideas about witches, not helped at this time of year with all the Halloween hype. And then there are the ones who think I can cure all their ills with a few herbs. The true witch wants to fine her true self, her other half, her doppelganger, perhaps you might say. We all have one, our repressed selves and we are going to find it. Close your eyes and recall what thoughts you had today. Did you let someone at work walk over you, cook what your husband wanted for dinner, not what you fancied, stopped yourself from swearing at that gormless teenager who nearly knocked you off the pavement, too busy looking at his phone?’

I could answer yes to all those and I saw others nodding.

‘Now imagine what you would do if you had no inhibitions. Don’t voice out loud.’

She frowned at me, must have seen me whispering and giggling with one of the others.

‘Now go deeper and darker, admit to yourself, have you ever wondered what it would be like to kick that ridiculous yapping handbag dog who’s always snapping at you?  What if you pushed that cyclist off the pavement?’

I smiled to myself, yes…

‘Pushed that cyclist in front of a huge lorry…’

I felt a stab of guilt as if I really had killed someone. This class was not turning out as I expected.

‘But you still have within you the childish innocence, do you notice how children run and dance, wave their arms, totally at ease in their bodies. I want you to move around the room and allow yourself to be liberated, raise your arms, spin, sing your favourite song.’

We could not throw away our inhibitions that easily, we looked at each other waiting for someone else to start. But the leader swept round us with surprising grace for her size and somehow we all seemed to be humming the same tune. Then we were chanting, an ancient song, I felt weird, not sure who I was.

I could not believe two hours had passed, how did we get outside and where was our teacher? It was very dark, a fine night, the stars looked amazing.

‘I don’t feel like going home’ said one woman.

‘I think I’ll leave the car here and walk home, run perhaps’ said another.

 ’I’m going to dance home’ I trilled excitedly.

We floated past the pub where a few smokers were gathered outside. I have never even smoked, but I realised how much I had missed the scent of a newly lit cigarette. I grabbed the cigarette out of the hand of the surprised young man and took a long drag, what bliss; I decided I would take up smoking, hang the health risks.

I woke up the next morning pondering what a ridiculous evening it had been. No chance of me joining that coven, though I would look up doppelganger, I had no idea what it meant.

It was my turn to cook breakfast as Graham was going off to play with his steam trains. He liked a full English when he was on duty at the station, what he called his valuable volunteer work. As I slid the fried eggs onto the plate it suddenly dawned on me how easy it would be to smash the frying pan, hot fat and all, down on his head. Shocked by my thoughts I thrust the pan into the sink.

As I walked down the road to the day centre, where I volunteer, a young woman walked towards me with a take away coffee in one hand and her phone in the other, totally oblivious to my presence. Recalling the childish joy of raising my arms in the air I raised my arms under hers. The phone went flying into the gutter and the coffee poured down her front. Fancy having a bare midriff at this time of year, served her right. Her shocked scream rent the air and I marched on in satisfaction.   

On this busy road I was not surprised to see a cyclist on the pavement, helmet on, visor over his eyes and those stupid white things sticking out of his ears. If I didn’t dodge him he would mow me down. It was so easy to heft him off the pavement. There was a screech of brakes and a red faced middle aged man clambered out of his car.

‘Bloody woman, what the hell did you do that for?’

‘Don’t you ~~~~   ~~~~~  yell at me you ~~~~    ~~~~ .’

I let out a string or obscenities I must have picked up from the teenagers who walk and cycle past my house on the way to school.

‘I could have damaged my new car.’

‘He could have damaged me.’

He suddenly started laughing…’You have made my morning, but do you think we should check on him?’

‘No, don’t bother’ I said and marched on.

I felt exhilarated and certainly did not feel like going to the day centre, though I could stop by to tell that stupid cow  who runs it what I really think of her…

Well that certainly livened things up and gave the old folks a laugh, especially those with dementia.

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to go in a china shop and sweep all those delicate ornaments off the shelves? I was approaching that posh gift shop, the one with the snooty manager. Normally I am nervous of accidentally knocking something off. I was only going in to buy something for Graham’s mother’s birthday, another useless ornament to add to her ghastly collection. The manager was on the phone, didn’t even look at me, twittering on in that ridiculous voice of hers. My arms had never felt such freedom. She soon looked up from the phone with the wonderful sound of crashing and splintering, but I was already back out on the pavement.

I almost felt as if I could fly, I flew down the steps at the Broadway tube station. Where would I go? The rest of the day was mine, I would jump on the next train to come along. Blow shopping for tonight’s dinner.

The platform was crowded, everyone looking serious, as dull as the dreary October weather we have been having. People are so trusting, surging to the edge of the platform when they hear that rumble in the tunnel, see the lights coming round the bend. Never dreaming that anyone would push them. How easy it would be to push one person, domino effect…