Bewitched
Bewitched It was a cold January morning, with a biting wind and heavy clouds that promised snow. Thomas was never enthusiastic about school, but this particular morning with only the prospect of an exam ahead, an exam for which he had not revised, he was positively reluctant. Life had been hard recently - well, ever since his father left, really. He shied away from the painful memories of his father’s departure, of having to witness his mother’s desolation. It wasn’t talked about now, locked away in a box marked forbidden, leaving him with this aching feeling of having failed, of impotency if only he had had the vocabulary to describe it. He was in sight of the school gates when he noticed something stirring under a shrub at the side of the road. It was a small bundle of black fur which moved as he approached it. Suddenly he was staring into the sad brown eyes of a very young dog. “Hello, little friend”, he said “What are you doing here?”. He offered his hand which the puppy prom