Graciela Insurance Group – Personal Injury Accident Witness Statement
Name: Colin Mayhew Date of Birth: Aug. 10, 1967
Tel. Number: 415-555-8677
Job Title and Place of Employment: Data Analyst, Dryclean.com
Location and Date of Accident: Highland Park Ice Rink, April 10, 2015
Please describe what you saw happen in the accident. It is only with the help of a drawer full of potent elixirs (ambergris, as well as my special blend of germander speedwell, yarrow, and purslane) that I am able to bring myself to fill out this form. But allow me to take a deep breath and start at the green bud of the tale. I had been embroiled in an emotionally draining affair wherein Kyle, another witch and formerly the summoner of the coven, had been challenging my position as high priest. Cathy, our coven’s magister, and truth be told, more tittering elf than life-force-possessing witch, proposed that the thirteen of us join her at the desert medicine practitioner’s group costume party at the ice rink, as one of the group’s shamans, Greg is her boyfriend.
Seeing as transiting Saturn was making positive aspects to my natal Venus at the time I thought it an auspicious alignment for reconciliation and in an effort to do psychic shielding, both from Kyle as well as from Lawrence, another shaman and former lover who I knew to be attending, I ingested anywhere from five to eight ounces of psilocybin mushrooms and by the time of my arrival at the rink my feelings about the entire power struggle had morphed from discreet and scattered rainbow cupcake sprinkle like thoughts into a continuous spectrum of enlightenment. I hugged Kyle when he arrived and I was inwardly assured that no one who smelled of wet clove cigarettes and toxic Chinese drywall could properly do the work of the Horned God. The shamans had a circus theme to their costume party, but a number of them were also dressed up as rabbits and some were dressed up as both and the coven and I spent a dizzying hour or so circling the rink with majorette hares until one of them removed his plush head and pulled some peyote buttons from underneath an epaulette and gave them to all thirteen of us in a spirit of healing.
And yes, I know that you and your actuary cronies reading this may be judging in some way, that Cathy and Kyle and Dragonsong and Mistress Cassandra the rest of us combined a cleansing rite with a winter sport. I’d say to you in response that a dysfunctional coven is a far riskier prospect! Far greater injury and even death is incurred when earth energy is disrupted and bate-breeders go unchecked, I can assure you.
And for a time it seemed that the force of the peyote pulled us together like droplets of oil coalescing on the top of a bowl of soup portending the imminent power of the Goddess that we as a coven were so very close to harnessing. We could all feel the power in the lines of our palms. Each crisp blade stroke against ice, each outstretched rabbit’s palm, each Talking Heads song sewed up our collective wounds, kissed our eyelids, breathed warm words onto our necks, promised us a vision of The One. It was a pure sacrament of being.
I think you should give Cathy a lot of money. I still see the moment that her eyes widened as she spun, the gripping in her neck as she fell backwards, her wrist reaching out to the ice instinctually. I hear that crack as though the ice was melting into the Arctic below and I watch as the blood freezes only to be scooped up in my mittened hands and deposited in the compost bin by the snack bar.
Did you intervene in anyway? The rink had no first aid kit, I suppose due to liability issues? Dragonsong cleansed Cathy’s chakras while Greg and I found some cardboard in the alley outside. Mistress Cassandra had a roll of reflective bicycle tape in her bag and one of the majorettes was able to construct a technically perfect splint.
Who do you think was the responsible party?: Kyle. Kyle is responsible.
Name and Signature: Colin Mayhew Colin Mayhew Date: 6/18/15