The Good Witch

Brunhilde threw the stone into the iron kettle and watched it ignite some sparks. It didn’t alter her icy stare in the least. She fixated on getting the last few ingredients spread around in the cauldron, her breath heavy, rasping with every effort.

I didn’t have a clue what this witch, this legend, wanted to set in motion with this brew. All I knew was that it would be enchanted.

Hmmm. Brunhilde added a feather and scented it with some lavender. 

“Oh, Brunnie, is my sweet elixir of dreams ready yet? I’m so looking forward to a good night’s sleep!”

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