Whitney Writes…

Cirice fiddled with her teacup, alternating between glancing periodically out the teashop’s front window and down at her wrist watch. The London traffic bustled past outside and she was reminded just how spoiled she was by the comparatively slow life at Hogwarts, in the Scottish countryside. Even though in the moment, doing her day-to-day runnings of the school, Cirice’s life always felt chaotic, it was nothing compared to the London grind.

A fourth glance down told Cirice that Joanne was now fifteen minutes late. She sighed and swirled her chai tea in the cup. She sighed, she supposed she should have expected. Business meetings were fickle things.

And then, just like that, Joanne appeared in a whirlwind of a tan trench coat, a long, knit scarf, her red hair half up in a messy, yet somehow elegant, hair style, a large canvas bag slung over one shoulder and a slew of books in her arms. She approached Cirice’s table without making eye contact – it must have been their usual – and began setting things down in great, tipping stacks. The small table was immediately consumed by the chaos that was Joanne. She was pulling of her trench and scarf, babbling about some deadline or other, when she finally turned back to the table and met eyes with Cirice.

Joanne froze, her sentence dying in her throat. She fixed Cirice with a puzzling stare with those piercing blue eyes of hers. “You’re not my editor,” Joanne said.

Cirice smiled wanly. “Hello, Jo,” she said softly.

Joanne blinked, then her eyes widened and she sank down into the chair opposite Cirice. “It’s you,” she breathed.

Inktober 2025, Prompt #26: PUZZLING🧡🖤👻🎃