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Janitor was weary, so very tired. He lived in a plastic bag with his dog Muggles. Muggles was a good dog and his only friend. In times gone by, Janitor worked at the local high school, that’s where he got his name. He couldn’t remember his real name; he couldn’t actually remember much before the plastic bag that was, now, his home.
Vaguely, he remembered that the school had let him go. They called it Dementia, whatever that was, but it sounded like something evil; demon-like. Nevertheless, Janitor knew his soul was magic, he had a magical talent...if only they knew, he thought, they’d give him his old job back, because he could predict the weather.
Imagine how grateful the soccer or netball team would be if they knew what the weather was going to do! Imagine how the school would love him when they understood his great gift! he would be famous, they’d put him in one of those beautiful houses he saw in his dreams. Muggles was his flag, his magic looking-glass, if the day was going to be foul, Muggles wouldn’t budge from their plastic tent. If it was going to be fine, Muggles would leap out onto the street in one bound.
Magic was so very easy when you had a dog like Muggles.