Whatever exactly the old witch's gods had done, perhaps it could work out. Maybe she could be happy. Live with and love another incarnation of her old...self? As perverse as the thought was, it brought a smile to her. Would that be so bad? No, it wouldn't, she decided, laughing softly as she stood. Her own laughter was the sound of chimes in her own ears as she opened the door and walked out into her new life. She didn't notice the ill-defined faces floating behind her as she closed the door. She. He always had something nice to say and he seemed to put everyone at ease. In appearance he was more than a little ugly. He was short, about five feet five inches, a little heavy, about 150 pounds. He had orange red hair and a ruddy complexion. He was one of those men who seemed to have no neck and his legs were stunted. His sister, Marty, had apparently inherited a different set of genes. She was nearly my height of five feet eleven inches with dark red hair, long legs, and a curvaceous. More

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