Deegie Tibbs And The Hooker’s Ghost

The day she left California, Deegie Tibbs swore she would never return. The plastic people, the polluted air, the cheesy tourist attractions—way too mainstream for an eccentric free spirit like Deegie. Yet despite the heartfelt promise she’d made to herself last year, here she was again, standing in a lukewarm California downpour in the middle of a Daly City parking lot.

The lock on the driver’s side door of her elderly Volkswagen Bus was sticking—again. Rather than risk breaking the equally elderly key off in the lock with her enthusiastic jiggling, she resorted to good old-fashioned witchcraft. After a hasty glance around to confirm she was unobserved, she fixed the door lock in a steady gaze and snapped her fingers with a hearty “Aperi ianuam!” Blue sparks, a shade darker than Deegie’s eyes, made miniature fireworks around the stuck lock.

The door swung open on its rusty hinges, and Deegie ducked inside, shaking grimy raindrops out of her curly black hair. Peering intently through the downpour, she started the engine and guided the brightly painted vehicle out of the parking lot and onto Interstate 5.  Contact The Author Here If Want To Read The Rest Of This!

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