My father bought one of the two commanding Victorian houses which sat on a high hill overlooking our small town. Sadly, we discovered the sister house to ours was falling in, but somehow that made it even more alluring... The rooms inside yawned with mystery and one was decorated completely with cats. Black, of course.
I had planned to pick out a room for myself in the new house, just as one of my childhood friends came to visit. While we roamed the rooms, three beautiful witches came to call. They showed us intriguing symbols they had created on the patio stones in the outdoor garden, and they told us they would teach us how to make them, much to our delight.
We found the Commando in the old stables, which had been converted into a vintage garage. I drove it with joy, even though at certain times a day it would only drive in reverse.
