The Talisman

Even if we had remembered the old saying about Greeks bearing gifts, most of us couldn’t have resisted the sales pitch.
I should have been more suspicious, having come from the big city. We’d moved to Dales, a small farming town, when I was a little past fifty—some ten years ago. I’d come for my health—which was in bad shape—though I didn’t expect a magically prolonged and vigorous life, only a few extra years. If we’re lucky we survive into our seventies and might even get into our eighties and be thankful for the extra years. Heck, these days, with the advanced medical discoveries, many of us are going into our nineties. But I’m a realistic sort, and a medical doctor; not a believer in Voodoo.
Yet what followed Mr. Smith’s visit seemed nothing short of witchcraft; him and his damnable Talisman. It was the event of Ms. Black’s baby that sent silent shock waves through the county. But that comes later.
It all started with Mr. Smith.