scottobear | #6253 that time of year again.

You are trudging down a service corridor that runs the length of one of the largest malls in the country, easily a half-mile of access doors and service closets. Time has no meaning, under the coolly buzzing fluorescent lights far overhead. It is after midnight, and the temperature-controlled environment has just turned off the air conditioner to conserve power in the off-hours. You glimpse up and see that you're no longer alone. You're astounded to have perceived someone so far away in the gray light, but you keep walking, expecting nothing more than a friendly nod as you pass. The person gets closer. You observe that she's hunched over and appears to glide as she walks, feet hidden by distance and dark clothing. She is closer--a pointed black hat and matching dress with long skirts and is using a broom as a walking stick, bristles up. Closer--a deep emerald-hued face, with a hook-nose and drawn crescent moon chin to complete the Punch and Judy look. You and she are fifty yards apart. You, and the storybook image of the wickedest of witches west of Munchkinland are twenty yards apart. You approach in the increasingly cozy and notably empty hall, alone save for the oncoming evil personage. You nod. She smiles, a comical rictus splitting her face, cackles, and swats your backside with the broom as she passes.

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