“Catch that goat!” a lady in rags shouted to me on my way to the jazz clubs. I chased the little fella into a nearby cemetery where a cornered him between two large headstones. Tough work in a dress and heels.
“Good bring him for the sacrifice,” the stringy-haired hag motioned to me when she caught up.
“You’re not going to kill him, are you?” I asked nervously. I wasn’t a vegetarian, but I didn’t want the little guy to die on my count.
“No, silly girl, I need a virgin for that,” she hissed threateningly. My turn to run.