Binx Transformation Spell Tee

Three hundred years is a long time to be a cat. Longer when the sentence was handed down in rhyme, by committee, with backing vocals. Somebody's sisters would not stop harmonizing, and the boy who went to stop them has been four-legged ever since.

The whole incantation runs down the back — bones, back, fur, the full ceremonial business — with the cat himself sitting square in the middle of the words, watching you read them. The front keeps only the last three, and the eyes.

For the one who can still recite all of it from memory and does, unprompted, every October. Twist the bones. Bend the back. You know how it ends.