It was a toss up whether I should place this under the Shallow Sister Guide umbrella or the Dating Workshop, as let’s face it sometimes we need a little magic to get things moving.
Spells? Do you believe they exist? I have two stories that I am willing to print and a few more that the statue of limitations has not yet expired on so I need to keep strum about those.
All are true stories, this is the first:
This one takes place in three countries and spans 4 years.
A young student in Nice, France enters a restaurant with friends and is briefly introduced to a French lady on her way out. They shake hands and the lady looks intensely at her and says ‘someone has cast a spell on you. Go to your home and look around your door for a stain’.
Upon returning to her digs she checks and finds no stain and a year later when she returns to her homeland in Istanbul, Turkey she has forgotten all about the words of a woman met leaving a restaurant.
A year later she is in Bournemouth, England when she goes to see a fairground fortuneteller.  Much to her surprise she is told the same thing. She returns to her digs and finds – nothing. 
Six months later she is back in her hometown Istanbul and has forgotten all about the words of a woman no one takes seriously anyway.
Another year or so passes and on holiday in the southern part of Turkey her coffee grounds are being read by another stranger who tells her again to check for a stain on her front door or on the floor outside her door. 
The fun of the holiday distracts her and she has forgotten what her coffee grounds say. Besides she didn’t believe in spells.
Time passes and she finds a job in a bank while struggling to understand why her long-term relationship with a man she was destined to marry has just petered out and died. No arguments, no fights, no other party involved. It had just faded out of importance after four years. Confused by the strangeness of its demise she begins to try to understand why something like that could have happened.  But comes to no conclusions. 
One lunchtime she buys some cured meat at Istanbul’s famous delicatessen in a place translated as The Flower Passage. This was the only place in the city you could buy pork, as it is run by Armenians as opposed to Muslim Turks. While in there two Jewish women enter the shop and ask for pork fat. The woman is amazed, shocked even. What would two Jewish women want with pork fat?  When they leave she asks the man who served them.
‘Don’t you know? It’s used in spells. If you rub some on the door of someone you ensure the young woman living in the house will never marry.’
In a whirlwind of disjointed pieces the past came flooding to her and clicked into place. Nice, Bournemouth, Southern Turkey….
She returned home and found a stain on the floor. It was the size of two coasters, not small at all but something she had never noticed before. 
She went in search of information to break the spell and was told she needed to urinate on the stain. She did. Within a few days the stain was gone. Within 3 months she met the man she is still married to thirty years later.
Make what you will of this story. The woman who this happened to holds a powerful job in a much respected institution. She is intelligent, down-to-earth and trustworthy. 
The facts of her story remain in that there was a stain she finally found. How long it had been there, undergoing numerous mopping, I cannot say except that we know it had been about four years.  It went when she was told how to get rid of it. Granted urine is acidic and I know is also used to prevent natural dyes running in carpets. Had the stain been a spell? That we cannot be sure about, but what is surprising is how three unconnected people came to tell her about this.
If you have a story for me I’d be interested to hear it. Spells are cast all the time. Do they work?  Can they work? That’s what we need to investigate.

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