Voodoo dolls are often misunderstood. There’s potential to bring a person good luck and fortune, but this was not that moment. The last time I was in NOLA the heaviness of spirit seeped into the clothes I wore and never dried.
I didn’t need the doll back then, so now I guess Amazon would have to do instead. The search brought up a hand stitched Voodoo doll shipped directly from a seller on Bourbon Street located near the cemetery. The spell cards included would not be used. I already had the spell. The straight pins would give her pain that made no sense. It was only fair. Karma was taking too damn long.
The yellow Add to Cart button hovers on the page. I only hesitate for a moment. Amazon has everything, except reindeer.
This method may seem drastic to you dear reader. “What did she do?” you may ask. It is hard to explain since each of her infractions are a single bead. Strung together you have a necklace of fuckery.
Beads include, but are not limited to: daily lawyer complaints over the past six years; the requirement for my life to be constantly rearranged at whim; the interrogation of the kids during each visit. All had all taken their toll.
Truth was not in her dictionary.
The doll would inflict kummerspeck. The German word that literally means “grief bacon”; seems harsh for the bacon but perfect punishment for her. She would pile on the weight and not be able to stop. It was a good use of a pin to the doll’s stomach. A pin to the head would be wasted. Her stupidity showed when she contradicted herself within the same sentence.
There was a note in the description about Potion #7. A cure. But it wouldn’t save her, even if she knew how to get it.
I close my eyes and remember the city so dirty the streets had to be hosed down every night. With the humidity as thick as it was, you’d think the stench would have washed itself away. I wonder what the doll will smell like when it arrives.
Email confirmation received.
Next day delivery.
Soon pain, gluttony, and misery would be in my control and there would be peace. Not for her.
Tammy Breitweiser is the accidental inspirationalist. She is a writer and teacher who is a conjurer of everyday magic who is always busy writing short stories. Her flash fiction has been published in Cabinets of Heed, Spelk, Five on the Fith, Clover and White, and Elephants Never.