tail.
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By the time Malachi came home the second time it was late, a little after eleven. Malachi knew he was going to be exhausted in school tomorrow, but he didnât care. He could fly. He landed on the front stoop and standing beneath the outside light, fished his key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door. He stepped into a silent house. The lamp on the end table, beside the couch, was on, making a soft yellow circle on the rug.
After cutting off the lamp, he went down the hall. No light edged his fatherâs door. The bathroom night-light made a tiny white sphere, illuminating the linoleum and the bath mat. Malachi looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes werenât just golden-brown anymore. They were becoming the color of the gold crayon in the Crayola box. For a brief moment, his eyes glowed and just as quickly the glow winked out. His hairâwas it getting even lighter? And his earsâMalachi turned on the overhead light and turned his head to one side and then the other. Yes, his ears were getting pointed. Dad couldnât ignore these things, could he? Like he ignored the floating bowls? He knew all that was happening wasnât normal. Was heâno, not going crazy?
Dad, you know; I know you know. Why wonât you talk to me?
Before leaving the bathroom, Malachi pulled the night-light out of the socket. He had told his dad a hundred times he was too old for a night-light. He very slowly and carefully opened his bedroom door at the end of the hall. The lamps on his night table and his desk were on. His father lay on his back on Malachiâs bed, fast asleep and snoring.
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April 30, 1991
The Technician
âCampus Magicâ
Today is Beltaine or May Eve. Walpurgis Night. Uh? Like, so what? Walpurgis Night, the eve of May 1 or May Day, is, according to legend, the night when witches fly. Beltaine is one of the four most sacred days in the Celtic calendar, and at midnight the way between here and the Otherworld is open. And you are still going uh and so what, right?
A lot of your classmates arenât. According to statistics just released from the Campus Ministries Office, there are at least 250 undergraduates and about 70 graduate students who list their religious affiliation as either Wiccan, Druid, Pagan or Neo-Pagan, or the Old Religion. A coven meets regularly at the McKimmon Center, every third Thursday.
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The next time you take a seat in English 111 or Compsci 101, take a good look at the people around you. They probably look pretty normal to you, donât they? Your typical NCSU students. Engineers, foresters, ag majors, pre-vets, teachers, right? Well, one of those civil engineer-wannabes or one of those pre-vetsâanyone of your classmatesâcould be a real, live practicing witch. Thatâs right, you heard me: a witch, or warlock, a wizard. A practitioner of the occult ...
Russell Avery White
Russell slowly dried himself with a thick, orange towel. He wanted to stretch out the time in his bathroom sanctuary as long as possible. The steam from his shower had clouded the medicine cabinet mirror, the tiles on the wall, even the window. Russell sighed as he rubbed down his legs. He knew he couldnât stay too long, or his stepmother would start complaining how he was monopolizing the room and didnât he realize other people had to take showers and use the john? Didnât the boy ever think of anybody but hisself? Larry? Canât you make your son behave?
Better not push my luck, he thought, and wrapped the towel around his waist and picked up his clothes from the floor. As Russell turned to go, he stopped and looked back into the mirror. For a very brief moment, his eyes had seemed to be greener and brighter than they had ever been. Russell blinked and looked again. The extra-green brightness was goneâhad it really been there? A trick of the early light? He rubbed his eyes and took his T-shirt and wiped the fog off the mirror.