| Magic Medicine |
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| By Ivor Griffiths | |
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Slow hallowed whispers woke two girls while a greasy snake oil man, with whisky breath and yellow scarf, dealt cards as the water boiled. The magician coiled two hairs in a bowl then sat in a weathered bronze chair, got a knife, a pipe, a bottle, and a hat, to deftly combine patchouli and lime. Twins with cancer and curls, with blood as thin as light, were offered injected chemicals from a magic stovepipe hat. The snake oil man he ministered with a liquid scent of faith. But slowly and quietly both girls died. Tragic but matter of fact. |