Whoever had covered our sidewalk with seals and signs apparently had an ax to grind, but I wasn’t worried. Whatever they wanted, I wasn’t about to let it get to me.

Nothing could feel quite so benign as a warm spring day in St. Nacho’s.

So… For some unknown—and probably unknowable—reason, the Witches of Westwick were trying to freak me out. I blew out a long, thin stream of smoke and grinned.

Cool. - Daniel Livingston

Autor: Z.A. Maxfield