Sometimes, you just have to fall in love with a witch. . . .

I sat in my car close enough to listen to the purring of the bulldozer's engine, observing a group of people in front of the bridge -- thinking only about how much this delay was costing me.

I heard that a group of locals were complaining about the destruction of this bridge.  

They called it a local landmark, but I couldn't see anything all that remarkable about it. I mean, it was just a covered bridge that looked as if it belonged in a time gone by.

A young woman who appeared to be the leader of the group stood in front of the bridge, flanked by her followers. What she lacks in size, she made up for with determination. She's not beautiful in the traditional sense, but she's so cute I couldn't take my eyes off her.  

When it comes to beauty, I'll take cute over beautiful any day. If I believed in magic at this point, I would have sworn I'd been enchanted.

After I slammed my car door, everyone turned to look at me. As I passed the guy on the bulldozer, I said, "We're not going to get anything done today. You might as well go to a job where you can actually get some work done. I'll try to straighten out this mess and get back to you."

"Sure, boss. Anything you say. Good luck," he said and glanced toward the unruly crowd before shutting down the engine.

I glanced down at the gravel crunching beneath my feet as I strode toward the group. When I came face to face with the brown-haired girl, she stuck out her pert chin in defiance.

"I didn't realize that tearing down an old bridge was going to cause such a commotion," I said.

"If you read your mail or answered your telephone, you would have known that this is more than just an old bridge. It's a landmark, part of our history. And no one here wants it torn down."

I looked at the group and said, "Folks, the bridge isn't going to be torn down today, so you can go home." I then turned to the young woman and said, "My name is Clyde. Could we go someplace and talk?"

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