After the accident, Henry couldn’t manage stairs in the cast. He mostly watched television, and didn’t go to his workshop at all. It wasn’t until Maureen went down to find the ladder that she noticed the cauldron, still bubbling away.
“Henry!” she shouted. “How long has this potion been brewing?”
“What potion?” The television roared with laughter.
“You’re the witch.”
“Well, I don’t remember. Just toss it. It’s ruined by now anyway.”
Maureen grumbled and hauled the heavy cauldron upstairs to pour outside. Then she forgot about it until morning, when she saw what was growing through the kitchen window…
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2 comments:
I really don’t like this is without a point or a theme.
Well, like many of my flitterfics, it's meant to be a sort of blending of mundane and fantastic. In this case, the thought was, "What if the old retired guy's hobby was old-school fantasy style witchcraft and wizardry instead of building cabinets or fiddling with old cars?"
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