When Wanda Taylor was thirteen years old, she had a few things on her mind. Although her flat chest and long feet certainly made the short list, they were nothing compared to her top concerns: if any of her friends were overhearing the same Sunday night stories she was, and the possibility that witches were living in her neighbourhood.

With her sister by her side, Wanda would listen to adults talking from the hallway outside the kitchen. From Kmart store witch sightings to advice on protective charms, Wanda’s mother and her friends tossed tales and gossip around the kitchen, fuelling their stories with Keith’s beer and Sunday dinner leftovers.

The more Wanda heard, the more she believed. And the more she believed, the more nervous she became about what her friends would think if they knew the kinds of things she heard in the hallway every Sunday night. That is, until the time her mother dropped a fork on the floor and it landed prong side up. That was the day everything changed.

Partial proceeds go toward Our Neighbourhood Living Society.

E - Everyone over ten: Content is suitable for everyone but may contain mild violence and language and minimal suggestive themes.