Mackenzie Hughes ‘25
I have no directional awareness of Boston
Once upon a time, there was a wicked witch from Southie, Bahstun. She lived in a big ol’ three decker that you could only get to if you banged a sharp uey. There was gahbidge all ovah ha yahd that smelt harible. Even the flowahs seemed to wilt in despair. All the townies were afraid of ha. When a kid accidentally kicked a bahl into ha yahd, they would say “no-suh” and fahget about it. Still, that didn’t bahtha the witch from headin’ into the hub for ha errands. She thought everyone was chowda-heads, so she grabbed ha broomstick and headed on the pike. The road was crawlin’ with staties, so she went slowah than usual. The C’s were playin’ at the Gahden, but she couldn’t stahp to check the score with all the honkin’ goin’ on behind ha. She stopped by the graveyah to leave some flowahs fah ha sistah who lived in Eastie. It was only two years ago the Norteastahn dropped that house on her. Next, she gaht to Dunks and pawhked ha flyin’ cah on Comm Av. “A free munchkin with every medium cahfee ordah, what a steal!” she thought. She grabbed ha cahfee regulah and left the store, but when she opened the door her cah was gone! The witch fahgaht she was in towin’ zone. Luckily, she hopped on the T around the cornah. Although, ha chahlie-cahd was in ha pahckabook, which was in ha broomstick, so she had to pay with cash. The wicked witch thought she might as well visit ha sistah, Glindah, in Wistah while she was on the train. By the time she gaht there, she was stahvin’. Ha favorite deli was down the street; she ordahed a ham grindah with a side of b’dayda chips. As I said, ha pahckabook was in ha broomstick, so she had to put a spell on the clerk to give it to ha fa nothin’.
She freighted going to see her sistah, who everyone praises for being so “good”. But the wicked witch knew she wasn’t so good. Glindah used to tease ha for ha green complexion, which the dactahs said she would grow out of. It also wasn’t ha fault their pahents wouldn’t let ha get a nose job. Anyway, she knached on the door. When it opened, Glindah was in ha stupid pink bubble in ha stupid pink gown wearin’ a stupid tiara. She invited ha sistah in for a frappe, but she wasn’t hungry. They caught up about their other sistah, who they heard was really causin’ trouble in Revere Beach. Before she knew it, Glindah was talkin’ ha nonsense again. Glindah told ha, “just because people treat you like a villain doesn’t mean ya have to act like one.” Ha sistah jumped in rage and exclaimed, “that’s easy for yo to say, you’re so beautiful and everyone adores you!” Their conversations usually ended this way. The wicked witch stormed out the door. Too bad she didn’t have her broomstick, othahwise she would have just flew away. She knew she need to get some space for a while, so she called an ubah all the way to the Cape. It was only 20 bucks, what a bahgan!
It was a quick ride, so she was able to catch the sunset. The witch sat by the wotah and contemplated ha life. She made sure to stay away from the waves, since the last time she got wet she got wicked boils on ha skin. Then she stahted to crave lobstah. “Do people really think of ha as a villain?”, she said to haself. All she evah wanted was some attention. Ha parents kicked ha out of the house when ha pet monkeys gaht out of control. She’s been alone evah since. She’s always known ha haht was always in the right place, no mattah what people say. Finally, she thought, “Yeah, ya ah pretty wicked.”
Featured image courtesy of Can Stahk
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