She nodded, and I flipped on my phone, found the story and showed her. She shook her head and sobbed, "It can't be true." I saw them towing a Corvette...Stingray from the lot as I came in; yours I believe, the yellow one."She nodded and wiped away tears. I had seen her in it, a great car. At eighteen she was broke; she had gone from the status of a rich woman to a poor beggar in less than an hour. Her home, car, clothes and jewelry had been taken, her credit cards voided. She was a lovely young. The village females from sixteen to sixty had eyes only for the male witch-hunter’s groin area because he was well-endowed and his package was covered tightly displaying a coil like that of a snake waiting in repose ready to be called into action when necessary to protect mother church from the schemes of the Devil in the disguise of a woman with all of her seductive ways and hints of carnal anticipation whenever required.The thirteen witches well hidden in the infrastructure of the village. More

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