|How To Dip a Witch in Five Minutes or Less (standard:drama, 1958 words)|
|Author: heather||Added: Oct 23 2000||Views/Reads: 2130/1163||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|After much critiquing on the part of a fellow literature lover, I decided to remove the first "How To Dip a Witch", revise, and resubmit. Reread and re-enjoy.|
The man walked slow, deliberate paces across the wooden floor, each step clacking loudly from the heel of his boots. He was a rather fat man, his face set in deep, unpleasant rolls, giving no hint of a chin beneath them. His skin was of a pasty white persuasion, common to an Englishman such as he was, and his eyes were a dull blue that gave the impression that he was not a very intelligent man. This impression, however, was incorrect--he was an intelligent man, in fact, a very shrewd, crafty man as most lawyers are. Thomas Worth was using his cunning to the highest in this particular case. Sarah sat calmly on the stand, her hands folded smartly across the lap of her crisp black dress. Her eyebrows were raised slightly, giving her an anxious and honest expression. She was an attractive woman of about twenty-five years. Her hair was a shining chestnut brown and her skin was a milky white with a tinge of red about it. Her brown eyes reflected a mood of innocence, something that would hopefully help her today. "Miss Good, I will ask you again, and may you tell me the truth this time for God's sake--" The populace gasped at this blatant use of the Lord's name in vain, but Worth gave them a look of disdain and they were quiet. "Where were you the night Elizabeth Lorrey fell ill?" he continued. Sarah shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I have told ye once before, sir, I was with the other women at the church preparing for the meeting," she said calmly. Thomas Worth turned a dull shade of red and marched quickly over to the stand. "Don't lie!" he shouted, slamming his hand down on the oak podium. Sarah's eyes opened wide in fear. "I tell ye, I do not lie. May the Lord strike me down--" she insisted. "Oh, and he will, Miss Good, he will, if we do not prove to do so first!" Worth threatened. Worth stood so that is back was turned to Sarah Good, his hands clasped behind him. "Is it not fact that you were heard muttering something while walking away from Parris' house?" he asked. "I did not mutter, no, I--" Sarah answered. "Yes or no will do, Miss Good," Worth interrupted. He continued his interrogation. "What spirit have you familiarity with?" "None," Sarah answered. "I told you not to lie!" he hissed. "Have you made no contract with the devil, then?" "No!" Sarah replied. Worth looked up, then down, then to the center with a heaving of a sigh, as if he could not bear to deal with people such as this. "Why do you hurt these children?" he asked angrily. "I do not hurt them! I scorn it!" she said desperately. "If you do not, who do you employ to do so?" he asked craftily. "No creature, but I am falsely accused!" Sarah said with a quiver in her voice. Worth nodded his head with a sarcastic air, and walked a few paces away from her. "To return back to the question regarding your mutterings as you walked Click here to read the rest of this story (292 more lines)
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