Free A Broom With a View by Rebecca Patrick-Howard Page B

that working in a new place always brought on a little more force, as she and it began learning about one another.
    Liza could feel her heart and mind opening; her chest swelled with happiness and potency and a slow smile spread across her face. With her eyes closed she offered up ancient words, as well as words of her own creation, and felt the air about her tremble.
    She could almost get lost in that sensation, in the feeling that there was something big and magical in the world around her and she was a major part of it.
    But she had business to attend to.
    Opening her eyes now, she bent slightly forward at the waist and gazed back down into the bowl of water. The once smooth surface was rippling now, making small waves, much like the air in the room. Downstairs the refrigerator hummed, her cell phone played a Bon Jovi tune that signified her sister’s call, and the microwave “pinged” (she’d forgotten to take out some noodles half an hour ago and now the darn thing wouldn’t let her forget).
    She blocked out all of these and focused only on what was before her.
    At first, there was nothing but blackness–the color of the bowl mixed with the mountain water. But then it began to change little by little. She could see herself standing over a table, her hands shiny with oil. A woman was on her stomach on the table before her, her naked arms outstretched and a white sheet covering her lower half. Candlelight flickered.
    Next she saw a party. Live music and cowboy boots on a dance floor. The smell of hay. Laughter. The room spinning around and around. Liza Jane was dancing, the shoulders under her arms strong and muscled. Colt’s eyes gazed down upon her, a hint of mischief in them.
    Liza felt a warmth spread through her stomach, something that had nothing to do with her candle ritual but nevertheless an ancient ritual that men and women had known since the beginning of time.
    The scene suddenly changed, however, and became darker. Liza leaned closer to get a better view and then jumped backwards as the bowl filled with the scent of blood. She heard screaming, saw pain, and felt fear rising in her throat. A man lay on the ground, blood spilling from his mouth.
    And Liza stood over him.
     
     
     
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    DAYBREAK WAS amazing–when that daybreak meant the first morning of your first official opening day at work in your fist official business, anyway.
    And ready just in time.
    Opening time was 9:00 am but she’d been there for two hours already, nervous and antsy. She’d had her “soft” opening already but this was the real deal. All her products were out and everything.
    Her first client would be there at 11:30 am and had booked a sixty-minute Reiki session. She had another one at 2:00 pm for a Swedish massage and then a facial at 3:00 pm.
    “Man,” she laughed, tossing her hair back and twirling around in a little circle. Little sparks of light flew out from under her feet and then rose into the air like dancing fireflies. She was already booking appointments for the upcoming weeks . “The ad I put in the paper must have really paid off!”
    In all actuality, it probably had more to do with the town’s sheer curiosity of her than anything else, but she wasn’t going to let her mind go there. She’d rather believe that the sore, well- paying residents of Kudzu Valley were just people who needed a good rub down.
    And the place looked good, too. Mode had chastised her, saying that she didn’t really know what hard work was, that she used her magic to do all the little mundane things she didn’t like, like clearing the dishes. But her building’s beauty had nothing to do with magic and everything to do with good old-fashioned hard work and elbow grease. Her wood floors looked brand new from the wax she’d gently applied to them, her windows glistened with Windex, and the air was fragrant with the scent of warm vanilla and cinnamon from the candles she’d artfully placed throughout the