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Living next door to a neighbourhood witch

You’d think milkmen would be used to pre-dawn doorstep encounters with all manner of ‘unconventional’ folk, wouldn’t you? Well, not in leafy Dorchester.

Grandmother Suky Burton roars with laughter as she remembers the day she and the man who delivers the pintas locked eyes in a moonlit driveway.

‘It was the early hours and I’d been to a ceremony at Stonehenge. Normally, I’d change out of my robes before coming home, but it was cold, so I didn’t bother. The milkman took one terrified look at me and scuttled off to his milkfloat as fast as his legs could carry him. I’ve never seen one of those vehicles move so quickly. He’d obviously never seen a witch before.’

Read the original article at: Mail Online

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