by Lester Waite, Gazette reporter

Moonridge’s beloved independent bookstore, Once Upon a Tome had a slightly more airborne evening than usual when Tuesday’s monthly Poetry Night took a mystical turn.

According to eyewitnesses, the entire building hovered nearly three feet off the ground for approximately eight minutes before gently settling back down, though not before spilling a full tray of lemon bars and a pitcher of hibiscus punch onto Mayor Peterson’s shoes.

“I was halfway through my villanelle when the floor gave a polite little pop and we started floating,” said local poet and part-time banshee, Irene Mallory. “Frankly, it added drama.”

The unexpected lift is being blamed on a misworded charm cast earlier in the day by assistant librarian Penny Fisher, who was reportedly trying to banish humidity from the building ahead of the event.

“I was just trying to keep the pages from curling!” Fisher said, nervously adjusting her oversized glasses. “I must’ve reversed the rune for ‘grounded.’ Honestly, I didn’t even think I had this type of ability!”

No injuries were reported, and the bookstore appears structurally sound, if now a bit more creaky than usual. Town inspectors, along with the local coven’s Arcane Safety Committee, will conduct a full re-anchoring ritual this weekend.

As for next month’s Poetry Night? The theme is “ascension.”

To Whom It May Concern (Because Apparently No One Else Is Concerned):

Is anyone going to address the fact that someone—or something—keeps rearranging my front garden gnomes into ritualistic patterns?

This has happened four nights in a row. I live on Birchwood Lane, right near the cemetery. (I know, I know. Weird things always happen here.) Each morning I wake up to find my innocent little ceramic gnome family have been moved and positioned in increasingly complex sigils, circles, and one time, what looked very much like a summoning grid. This morning I woke to find that two of the smaller gnomes are missing.

Last night I tried sprinkling salt around the flowerbed, only to find a note pinned to my door this morning that read “Nice try.”

I am not accusing anyone directly, but I am almost certain I saw one of the witches (I won’t name names) walking past my hydrangeas at 3 a.m. wearing what I can only describe as “robes of suspicious intent.” Coincidence? I think not.

Please, if you’re in need of ritual materials, use ethically sourced crystals like everyone else.

Concernedly,
“Not Your Gnome Supply”
(Birchwood Lane)