Desert Rose Metaphysical: Incense, Tarot, and Crystals!
A story about a skeptical cashier who just wants to eat her lunch and a delivery person who claims to have lost their head, with a dash of magic and some ASL!
Genre: Fantasy, Word Count: 1,571. Enjoy Reading!
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“Okay, so I have three sage bundles, 2 packs of palo santo, and a seven day candle. 15.37,” Mara told the blue haired teen. She paid with card and left, leaving the store empty save for Mara. Her customer service smile quickly disappeared, replaced by a yawn. Finally, she was alone, blessedly alone for 45 minutes. Enough time to scroll through her apps a bit before ordering lunch.
All the witches these days had colorful hair. This month’s trend seemed to be some variation of blue. She wondered what platform it was they gathered on, how they decided what color to dye their hair that week. Every time she searched “witch”, “witchcraft”, “spells” on Instagram or Facebook, she never saw a customer she recognized. How many witches in one city could there be? She desperately wanted to find whatever subreddit it was they all posted on.
She took a large breath, breathing in all the smells that culminated in the shop, filled her lungs with the aroma. She loved the smell of incense burning, loved that she came home with the soft smoke of it wafting off of her. But magic? Spells? Maaaybe she could get behind energy and vibrations in rose quartz crystal, but chanting to the air or the moon wasn’t going to pay the bills, or make someone love you more, or help your rheumatoid arthritis. Then again, she believed in a floating man up in the sky, so who was she to judge, really?
Mara’s thumb wandered over the FoodPals app, and she ended up ordering a Teryaki bowl, even though she had perfectly good leftovers in the backroom. She flipped the sign on the door and locked it. With not much else to do she walked around, tidying up bottles of rosemary oil, making sure the malachite and jade hadn’t been mixed up again in the rock box. It was never really untidy in here— business was alright, but it was February. Only candles were flying off the shelves, probably for all the love ritual baths that everyone was taking. The shop saw a lot of Aphrodite patrons this month.
The tea section was her second favorite, after the incense and oils. Last payday she treated herself to the “DREAMER” tea, made with mugwort and chamomile and a host of fancy herbs she’d never had in tea before. Just a little treat- it was one of the more expensive products in the store, and the little voice in her head was singing treat yourself. Supposedly, it would help the drinker sleep. She did feel tired while sipping it, but it was mainly chamomile. A simple cup of tea wasn’t enough to convince her yet.
She had her nose in a loose leaf tin labeled “HEART MENDER” when a knock on the glass spooked her. Oh right, her delivery. She opened to door and came face to face with a bright purple motorcycle helmet. The person wearing it held up a white take out bag.
“Oh, you’re from FoodPals?” Mara asked.
The helmet nodded. In the other hand, they held a portable credit card terminal. They lightly nudged it towards Mara. Oh, that’s right. She didn’t want to pay on the app.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry— I left my card in the back. Come on in, I’ll go get it,” she said.
The helmet looked around, but said nothing.
“Can you see under there? You can take your helmet off, if you want.”
But they just shook their head and Mara began to wonder if locking herself in with a delivery person, a stranger, wasn’t a great idea. It was probably, fine right? All they were holding was the bag and terminal.
The helmet seemed to be staring at Mara’s chest. They set the bag and terminal on the counter, and pointed to her pin that read I know ASL. How Can I Help?
“You know ASL?” they asked in sign.
Oh! That was a relief. “Yes,” she signed back, “I do. Is this better?”
“I can hear you,” they said, and Mara saw that their nails were also bright purple. Matchy matchy. “But I have to sign. Go ahead and get your card, now that I’m here, I have a question?” Mara assumed this was the correct inflection— the delivery person seemed to be substituting a tilt of the head for the usual raised eyebrows that indicated a “questioning” tone. “If you don’t mind answering on your lunch. I’d really appreciate it.”
“Sure,” she shrugged, answering back with her voice. She didn’t really want to be working on her lunch, but if it was just one question… this person couldn’t linger long. It looked like they had more deliveries on the back of their bike. Mara came back quickly with her card, swiped for her meal, and dug in behind the counter, opening up each styrofoam tub with a little sigh. It smelled delicious. She took a large gulp of her coke before giving her attention back to the delivery person.
“So,” she said between bites, “What’s your question? Actually, can I ask why you won’t take off your helmet? I’d be able to understand you a little better if I could see your face.”
“I want to,” they said, “but I can’t. I got cursed by a witch. My head is lost somewhere. That’s why i’m signing— no mouth. I thought, since you work at this shop, you could help me?”
“Mmhmm,” Mara said, “I know a bit about hexes. Not a lot of people go around cursing though, and I definitely haven’t heard of a curse that makes you lose your head. You mean you’ve been feeling anxious? Out of sorts? Mercury retrograde, maybe?”
“No,” they said, “ I…” their hands hovered in the air, thinking. “I literally lost my head.”
Mara’s spoon nudged her chicken. “What, like, there’s nothing under there?”
“Yes! I need help. I need to break it, the curse, or find my head,” they said, their motions becoming more frantic. “I’ve been like this since the beginning of February, and I’ve had to keep this stupid helmet on all the time! I mean, it was my fault, and I get it, I learned my lesson, but I want my head back.” The helmet tipped forward a bit, and was righted quickly.
Mara sighed. She’d had a few prank calls come in to the shop before, stupid teenagers or kids, but this was dragging on. This person had to be at least eighteen if not older. Way too old to be pranking people, especially while they were working. If Mara wasn’t so tired, she’d have been pissed at this person for wasting her lunch time.
“Alright,” Mara said, “I don’t appreciate being made fun of. Even if I did believe you, I’m pretty positive there’s no curse for making people’s heads disappear. I have sage, teas that help you sleep, and essential oils on these lovely reclaimed wooden shelves. Thanks for my lunch, but if you wanna buy something, you’re gonna have to come back in an hour when my breaks over.”
Mara went to the door and waited, holding it open. Reluctantly, the delivery person walked through the door. “Sorry to bother,” they said.
Mara wasn’t sure what came over her, but she felt bad for this person— and the “lost head” joke sparked a memory. “Listen,” she said, “I don’t know if you’re trying to test my childhood fairytale knowledge or what, but a lost head sounds more like fey. You know, faeries? I don’t even know why I’m telling you this. Go prank someone else, huh?”
“Really? Fey?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Thank you!”
Mara swung the door shut and locked it again, checked that it was locked. Well. That wasn’t as bad as halloween. Teenagers asking her questions about ouija boards, magic wands, all around wasting her time. She jabbed at her rice, deciding it needed more soy sauce.
The roar of the motorcycle was strangely absent. She peeked out the window, and was right— the delivery person was leaning against the motorcycle, looking at something on their phone. A strong gust of wind blew then, knocking over sandwich signs and trash from the street. It also managed to tip over the bike, followed by it’s rider. Straining to see, Mara stood on her tiptoes. It lay on it’s side, wheels up, and all Mara could see of the delivery person was a pair of shoes, and an errant shoulder. Mara tried to follow that shoulder up, up, but the bike obscured too much. And the helmet, which was lying about a foot away had fallen off! Before Mara could even think about going outside, the delivery person snatched it with quick hands, and stuck it back on.
Mara would have forgotten about it. She wouldn’t have given it a second thought. But the way that shoulder was positioned… Mara was dead sure that she should have been able to see their head, even if the bike was in the way.
She should have been able to see a head, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.
Mara worried her lip. In twenty minutes now, her break would be over, and she hadn’t even gotten to her desert yet. She watched the delivery person start up their bike, kick up the stand, and drive away. She’d have to ask her boss about “lost head” curses tomorrow.
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Thanks for reading! If you like this story, feel free to check out my other stories like Jupiter’s Curse or The Market Value of Holy Water is Exactly One Glazed Donut ! Also, if you’d like to support a POC writer, my Patreon and Kofi are linked in my bio~ I’m also on instagram @ jonnyblackwrites, where I write poetry!
Finally did it. Here she is, my Buko no hero Academia OC, Kiyoko Suma.
Keep an eye out for her, might write some fics with her and my faves from BNHA, but i’ll for sure do art with her and her best friends Shinsou and Todoroki.
! I forgot to add her hero name, it’s Nightmare. She intends for herself to appeal to a more horror based group since her quirk can be quite frightening !
