chapter 4

Sarah called up Cleo to ask her if she wouldn't mind investigating the source of her mystery fabrics. “Cleo, are you still into witchy shit?”

“100% why do you ask?”

“It has to do with my lucky skirt, but it'd be easier to show you. Can you come over tomorrow? I want to investigate that estate sale that I bought the fabric from.”

“That sounds like way more fun than sitting on the couch all day. I'll bring breakfast! I can't wait-- I'm so excited that's you're thinking about getting into all this.”

The next day, when Cleo showed up with a large whicker picnic basket with amazing smells. There were many things that Cleo was good at, and baking was one of them! As soon as she saw Sarah wearing her lucky black skirt and corset, she eyes her up and down, Cleo started gassing Sarah up “So you're just going straight for the witchy look then? Black skirt, corse?. I mean it's a look, and I'm here for it!”

“That's just it,” Sarah began, “ever since I made this skirt, I've been making incredible things happen. Look at this!” As Sarah pointed at the picnic basket and the delicious baked goods marched themselves out and placed themselves on Sarah's table.

Cleo's jaw dropped. “That kind of stuff is easy for me. This is what happens when I try to conjure something out of thin air!”

“Conjure!? From thin--” before Cleo could finish her sentence, a single egg sprang into existence and rolled around meekly on the table.

“Okay but watch what happens when I do this,” Sarah continued without missing na beat. Clutching a nearby belt she began cinching the skirt as tight as she could and turned around so that Cleo could tie her corset laces. “Do it up real tight, like, try to suffocate me almost”

Confused and but completely engaged, Cleo obeyed. “I used to be able to conjure entire meals at once. But, now that you've-- wow you really got that right on me-- I can do this!” Then with a snap of her fingers, Sarah conjured a silver platter with a complete English breakfast, an ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, and a pitcher of orange juice. “I hope you like brunch!” Sarah jested gesturing towards the large meal with one hand and placing the other in the front of her corset, seemingly able to breathe ever so slightly better now.

“I love that, but how did you?”

“I don't know, but that's what I'd like your help to figure out.”

“Oh, we'll get to the bottom of this,” Cleo assured Sarah, “but not until we eat this shit. Does it taste as good as it--”

“It's even better, Cleo!”

The absolute foodie that she was, Cleo was already sitting down at the table, fixing her plate. Sarah joined her. Although she had spent the last few weeks dieting her way back down to her starting weight, Sarah knew this was a special occasion. And like Cleo, she wasn't really a huge fan of diet culture to begin with. I'm the time that Sarah had known Cleo, she had watched as Cleo's figured blossomed into the curvy woman who sat before her. If she had pick any piece in Cleo's wardrobe as her signature item, it would have to have been the ”fuck diets” sleeveless crop top what she would usually pair with denim shorts on a hot day. That was an outfit Sarah had a lot of admiration for, because like Cleo it was fun, it was flirty, and it didn't give a shit if it made anyone uncomfortable. In fact, Sarah thought, anyone who said Cleo's belly was unnatractive was really missing out.

There was no way that Cleo or Sarah would have eaten all of that food, but lubricated by the mimosas, neither left Sarah's apartment feeling hungry. With a wave of Sarah's fingers the food sorted itself and the leftovers placed themselves in Sarah's fridge, and the two girls left to investigate the estate where Sarah had found this fabric.