"So, your new lady friend is a Wiccan, huh?"
Those words were spoken to me many years ago.
At the time, I lived in Richmond. At the time, my next door neighbor was a musician: as laid back as they come. He was a pleasant fellow, cut from the stereotypical cloth of the 1960's style hippie.
He had wandered over my way after the woman who would become the wife had just departed my abode, asking his nonsensical question.
"What are you talking about, Cory?" I asked.