The White Witch of Rosehall by H.G. de LIsser
8 min Oct. 29/12 in Aunty’s kitchen, Jamaica Queens
Dangerous beauty was a drug he couldn’t resist. True he’d had a lot of wives and mistresses, even a few mistresses who were other people’s wives. But she was different. He knew it couldn’t last long. He knew he should stay away. He had common sense about most things, but these were extraordinary circumstances. No this was not the time and place for anything common. He had dressed carefully to keep himself as dry as possible for as long as possible. Officials had been telling the public to hunker down and watch on TV from the safety of home. But he was a front row kind of guy his whole life. His whole life in this place, why wouldn’t he come and see her up close? Even though her fury was a deafening howl and her wind whipped at his face like a thousand tiny knives he didn’t want to be anywhere else. The greys and the whites were an enthralling swirl of beauty. She was a once in a lifetime storm and she’d come to the shores of his home town.
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