Full Moons Halloween and Witches

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Witches love full moons, especially during Halloween, when a wicked witch has her wicked way with a 40-year-old virgin.

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Johnny sat at a bar minding his own business with his only friend, a cold beer, keeping him company. A regular, he came to Al's place for a frosty, cold draft and some sports banter with the bartender every night after work. Never having more than two beers, a precision tool and die maker, holding the cold glass in his big, swollen hands felt good, after handling hot tools all day.

He had big, strong hands, hands like a professional baseball catcher, calloused and thick skinned. Every mark, every smashed knuckle and split fingernail, every scratch, cut, and scar, saved a work related story to tell. Other than sports, with not much of a social life, work was all that he talked about. Other than to watch a baseball or a football game on TV, watch the news, or read about the outside world in the newspaper, work is all he did.

Alone with his thoughts, without his friend, Mike, the regular bartender there to keep his lips moving and his thoughts off other things, mainly his job, he stared down at his glass in silence. Reminding him of a little lagoon, located off of a white sandy beach, that he saw in a magazine at the barber shop, he traced the line of condensation that ran down his glass to collect in a little pool of water on the bar. Never having been anywhere and done anything, he's never even been on a plane.

Yet, he's always dreamt of traveling and he'd travel somewhere, anywhere, if only he had someone to share the experience. Always alone, it would be no fun traveling alone, too, without having someone to share in his excitement. Having lived his whole life here, all he knows is this small town, his house, and his job at the machine shop.

It was Halloween night, the night he should be out trick or treating with his kids, but he didn't have any children. The regular bartender, his friend, Mike, was home with his family, and left the bar to Joe, the fill-in bartender. Still living in the house his father built and left to him, when his parents died, his life has always been the mundane same. Somehow, with working overtime and double shifts, life has passed him by and now twenty years later, he was a middle-aged, tired, and depressed man. Somehow, fortunately or unfortunately, he skipped what so many others have done and aspire to do again, dating, marriage, children, cheating, divorce, second marriage, cheating, and divorce, before becoming tired of the merry-go-round of women and empty relationships and deciding to live alone with their bad selves.

His friends were attending a Swingers' Halloween Masquerade Ball with their wives, but he didn't have a wife. Even if he did have a wife, he'd never expose her to one of those disgusting sex orgies. Truth be told, never having had a special someone in his life, he didn't even have a girlfriend. Truth be told, a 40-year-old virgin, even with the prostitute his friends hired to service him on his 40th birthday last month, he respectfully declined her offer of passionless sex. He's never been with a woman in that way, naked, humping, and sweating and surely, he didn't want his first experience to be with a prostitute. He didn't understand how anyone could do that, have meaningless sex with a stranger, without being married and in love.

Knowing that he was a virgin, his swinging friends offered him their wives, but he politely declined their offer of empty sex, too. Even though their wives were desirable and more woman than he ever hoped to be with, not wanting them to know, he tried not to show that their offer of him bedding their wives disgusted him and, in his eyes, disgraced them. Wrong on so many different levels, against his morals, and not even tempted, he'd never have sex with the wife of another man. No matter how they tried to justify their swinging lifestyle to him, it was just wrong. It was just nasty.

How could they do that, offer their woman to him, another man? How could they share their woman with another? If he had a woman, he'd hurt any man, who disrespected him and/or his woman by flirting with her and trying to get with her. After his friends offered him a prostitute for his birthday and then offered him their wives, when he declined to have sex with the prostitute and politely declined their offer of having sex with their wives, he regretted telling his friends that he was a virgin. Information that was too personal, they'd somehow use that against him to judge him for the man they think he is. Now, because of how they perceived him, as if there was something wrong with someone abstaining from sex and maybe there was, he now kept his friends at arm's distance.

A big man. A good man. A kind man. An honest man. A loyal and generous man, he'd never put the hurt to someone that didn't deserve to be hurt. One never known to throw the first blow, he's always the last man standing to throw the last one.

He never understood his friends' need to share their wives' intimate secrets with others. Shame on them. He'd never be able to kiss his wife's lips again with the thoughts that she had sex with another man and had another man's penis in her hand, her pussy, and in her mouth. How they could break their holy vows of matrimony by having sexual relations with others and still stay married was a mystery to him.

If he had a woman, what she did before she came into his life was her business, but after she came into his life and they committed to one another in marriage, she was his and no one else's. 'Til death do you part, a lifelong commitment, free sex never made any sense to him, when there's so much more to life and to marriage than just random and passionless sex with a stranger. Besides, with all the diseases and STD's out there, he never understood his friends' need and desire to have sex with the planet's population. Not one to lust over anyone's women, he only wanted to have sex with one special lady, his very own.

Just as he missed the whole point of the swinging lifestyle, Johnny believed that they missed the whole point of love, marriage, morals, and respect. If they weren't going to honor one another by being true to each other, he never understood why they married each another in the first place. If he had a wife, if he went through all the time, the effort, and the expense to romance her and then to take the vows of holy matrimony to love, to honor, to respect, and to cherish her, he'd stay faithful to that one woman for the rest of his life.

Yet, alone with his high and seemingly unrealistic morals and lonely without a good woman in his life to love and to cherish, just as Johnny wasn't very lucky with women, he wasn't such a good looking man. Actually, a monstrous man that looked like a cross between Rubeus Hagrid of Harry Potter fame, albeit a much bigger version, and Luca Brasi, Don Corleone's hit man, in Mario Puzo's, The Godfather 1, he was a scary looking man to those who didn't know him. Hailing from a long line of ugly people, his Dad was even homelier that he was at his 40-year-old age. He'd be relieved, with the homely man his Dad was, to realize that even his Dad found someone to love with his plain looks, that is, had his Dad not married his fraternal twin sister.

Gross, shocking, and nasty, he couldn't believe it, when his parents sat him down to tell him their deep, dark, incestuous secret. A forbidden love between brother and sister, no one knew that he was their love child. He never understood what may have happened in their lives that twisted them enough to not only fall in love with one another but also to marry and have a baby? Is there any wonder why, at 40-years-old, Johnny is still alone, lonely, and unmarried?

Doomed never to win a beauty contest, his Dad's sister, his mother, was just as homely as he was, which explains his homely looking puss. With his Mom the one that should have been his aunt or his Dad the one that should have been his uncle, he started his life confused, unhappy, embarrassed, and always living with the horrible shame of their incestuous secret. Glad that they did, he sometimes wished they had never told him. Didn't they think of the long-term repercussions? Didn't they think of him, before they had a baby?

Tired of being rejected, when asking a woman out for a date, all the women he was attracted to were unable to get by his physical appearance to discover his hidden heart of gold and the good, kind, honest, loving, and loyal man that resided deep inside him. All the women he was attracted to, if interested in him at all, were only interested in him because he had a good job, a nice house, a new car, and, since he had never been married and didn't have children, obviously, he had money. All the women he was attracted to weren't attracted to him, at all. If they were anything at all, they were afraid of him.

Doing their best to take advantage of him by offering him sex, all the women he was attracted to weren't very nice to him. Only, their tempting him with sex in exchange for him lavishing them with money, didn't work with him. Not interested in sex, he was no one's sucker for love. They didn't know that he wouldn't have sex with anyone, until he was married and on his Honeymoon. They didn't see what a good man he was. Truth be known, they'd be the lucky ones to have someone as good as he was in their lives. Truth be told, loving him would make them a better person.

Able to see through their insincerity, rather than go through the heartache and the heartbreak of marrying a gold digger, he stopped trying to find his love match. Rather, perhaps because of his deep, dark secret, deciding to be alone and lonely than to live with someone who didn't truly love him, long since deciding to live a solitary life, not even his close friends knew that he was a byproduct of incestuous love. Especially after the big production they made over him being a virgin, he'd never tell them that his Dad married his identical twin sister. Imagine their shock. Imagine their horror. What would they think then?

Knowing full well that if he told his friends about his accident of birth, they'd look at him as the monster that he wasn't and, somehow, as if it was his fault. As a byproduct of incestuous love, they'd question his sanity and forever question his logic, whenever he imparted his advice. Besides, no one needed to know the secret that surrounded his birth. His personal life was none of anyone's business.

Eager to embarrass themselves in front of the whole world, when everyone else was vying to go on Jerry Springer to proclaim that they were a product of a brother marrying a sister, he kept his secret to himself. A friendly, yet private man, his secrets were his to shoulder alone, unless some woman was willing to share them. Hard enough living with the ugly face he had than to compound his misery with the public inspection of his private life by telling everyone about his background and taking on the shame of incest, too, he stayed to himself.

Nonetheless, feeling so terribly lonely, he'd get a dog, if he could. He always wanted a dog, a dog that looked just like him, a big dog, a dog that had a big bark and that frightened people just be looking at them, but a dog that was a gentle giant. He had a fondness for oversized dogs, big German Shepherds and tall Rhodesian Ridgebacks, Irish Wolfhounds, Scottish Deerhounds, and Great Danes, but he worked long hours. Gone twelve hours a day, it wouldn't be fair to the dog to be left alone for such a long period of time. Instead, with his passion for dogs, on his one day off, he volunteered his time at the animal shelter, something that he loved doing.

Rather than see them put to sleep, rather than know a healthy and happy dog that no one wanted was scheduled to die, he'd take them all home if he could. Instead of having them put the down, when the shelter ran out of room to house the dogs and the money to feed the animals, he donated enough of his own money to expand the shelter and pay for the food. He loved dogs, but hated cats. Sneaky and not as lovingly loyal and pack leader obedient, as a dog, he didn't understand cat lovers, just as they didn't understand his love of dogs.

Cats, especially black cats gave him the creeps and made him think of witches, ugly, wicked witches. If there was one thing that he hated more than black cats, it was ugly, wicked witches. Even though he knew that witches didn't exist, even though he knew his fears were founded on a movie, he was scarred from watching the Wizard of Oz as a child. He still has nightmares of the Wicked Witch looking in her crystal ball, seeing Dorothy, and then ordering all those monkeys dressed in uniforms that were obviously put under a spell, chase after and kidnap poor, innocent, sweet, and loving, little Dorothy. Even though he knew it was just a movie, he couldn't help but think that there really were wicked witches that could put a spell on someone.

Black cats, wicked witches, and Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, the things that went through his mind never ceased to amaze him. Maybe because unburdened by caring for anyone else but himself, unencumbered by a woman and children, he had a clear mind to think of other things, less important things. Maybe because it was Halloween night and maybe because he was alone with his thoughts, rather than spending time talking sports to his bartender friend, Mike, who was out, no doubt, taking his kids trick or treating, was why his mind turned to thinking about wicked witches. Only, he didn't know that during a full moon on Halloween, thinking about wicked witches will summon them, beckon them from out of the darkness to expose themselves in the light of a full moon, and will make them appear.

He wished he had someplace fun to go to celebrate the Halloween holiday. He wished someone had invited him to a Halloween party, albeit not a swingers' orgy to have sex, but to a regular Halloween party, where he could have dressed up in costume. Yet, all his friends were making their own good time at the Swingers' Masquerade Ball having fun, having sex, and drinking. Alone and lonely, he'd love to meet one special woman to love and to spend the rest of his life with her.

Bored, alone, and lonely, Johnny looked out the big, dirty, bar window at the bright full moon that commanded the attention of the sky. Normally a dark, dank, drinking hole, a little place where the locals found comfort from their wives and solace from their children, the moonlight lit up the bar and his stool, as if he was an actor on stage of a one man Broadway play. As if hypnotized by the unseemly sight of it, the full moon mesmerized him and lulled him into a soft, reflective quietness he had never known.

Drawing energy from the full moon, he somehow felt recharged, reenergized, and reconnected from his disconnection to life and to those around him. Then, when looking away from the pulsating glow of the full moon, refreshed, as if awakened from a long sleep, invigorated, as if stretching after a one hour massage, and relaxed, as if spending a two week vacation on a quiet beach, he felt so centered. The feeling he had was surreal. Feeling so very relaxed, instead of being a precision tool and die maker sitting on his barstool with his elbows resting on the bar, he could have been a hippie hermit sitting on a mountaintop and contemplating the universe.

Especially on Halloween, much like black cats and flying brooms, full moons and wicked witches go together and seldom do you see one without the other. Just as vampires appear from out of nowhere to suck blood, wicked witches materialize whenever there is a full moon and whenever someone beckons them by thinking about them, just as Johnny had been thinking about the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz. Only, most times, you can't hear them, see them, smell them, or feel them, that is, until it's too late. Most times, as if in a dream, a hypnotic fog, you don't even know they were there and gone. Your only clue to the presence of a wicked witch is a lingering dream and the sight of a full moon.

Most can feel when there's a full moon arising, but not know that there is a wicked witch looming? Eerily spooky, making your hair stand and your skin crawl, giving you the chills, the willies, and the heebie jeebies, wicked witches have the same adverse effect, as do vampires, ghosts, ghouls, demons, and goblins. Just as some can sense the presence of a wicked witch and the feeling of a ghost, for that matter, others are oblivious to them. What is an unnerving feeling to some is just another ordinary day to others. Yet, there are many strange and unexplained occurrences that happen when there's a full moon.

Howling is one occurrence of a full moon, psychic phenomena is another, and unexplained animal behavior is still another. Typically over activeness and aggressiveness turn the most precious little, otherwise, tame pets wild. Making matters worse, during such an occasion of a full moon on Halloween, all sorts of unexplained phenomena happens. The most common occurrences are ghosts, spirits, demons, and apparitions. Hiding behind the veil of the unexpected, the unbelievable, and the occult, a full moon on Halloween is the perfect time for wicked witches to do their witchery with witchcraft.

Witches use the full moon on Halloween to their full advantage to appear and to seek their ultimate revenge on those who have wronged them. Some say that those unearthly things, ghosts, spirits, apparitions, goblins, demons, and witches, that are, otherwise, no longer of this Earth, derive a renewed energy that reinvigorates their long since dead spirits enough for them to return to wreak their evil havoc on the living population of our planet. Some say, once reinvigorated enough to live for a day, they need to find a warm, living, and receptive victim to take over and control their body for them to live longer.

It is that person that gives wicked witches the energy to continue living. It is that person that saves wicked witches from the inevitableness and finality of death. With not much time to find the one they need, just as a vampire needs to feed before the dawn of the new day, it is that victim that wicked witches need to find, before the full moon disappears and it's too late.

It's during this time that you best stay indoors. It's during this time that you best not challenge fate by becoming a victim to a wicked witch, witchcraft, curses, and spells. May God have mercy on your doomed soul, if, by happenchance, you come in contact with a wicked witch. Too busy doing other things in our crazy, fucked up world, even God may not be able to save you from a wicked witch.

"Run! Save yourself. Run! Run!"

Only, just as it's difficult to discern a wicked witch from a wicked woman, it's difficult to determine the agenda of one from the other. Where wicked witches want to possess you, wicked women just want your money. Until the time that they reveal their intensions, it's hard to tell one from the other.

Do you believe in witches? You will, if you come in contact with one. Have you ever seen a witch? Have you ever seen a wicked witch? You may never know if you had. Except for the stereotypical Hollywood witch, do you know what a witch looks like? Look in the mirror. Do you see that image staring back at you? They look just like you.

Sanctuaries for the practitioners of the lost black arts, there are stores in nearly every city that cater to witches and witchcraft by selling potions, lotions, amulets, and talismans. When you speak of spells, potions, curses, and omens, if you do and when you do, but I recommend you don't, those who follow the black arts all know what you're talking about without having to mention what never should be mentioned. Superstitions are the reality of witches and, when talking about witches and witchcraft, superstitions have a coincidental way of becoming your reality.