Baba Yaga Encounters Her Ex Outside the Discount Supermarket

A pensioner with scaly hen legs and the digestion of a witch’s cauldron, she roams the shopping precinct on a hunt for foil-wrapped marzipan treats. Time pet name Tim, her spindly guitarist ex, appears outside Lidl. When young they hiked through starlit canyons, grew frilled tulips, bought tiny jars of things like salmon paste. Now questioned by a hurrying man, Tim points synchronously in three directions. He always was a slippery fish, although maybe she grasped too hard. Hello Babs, ooh, what’ve you got there? She clutches, he tugs. Gold and silver sweets cascade.