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Weekly Contest #277
Every day I wake up with no one but my cauldron beside me, and every day its bubbling mixture splashes into my skin, burning me with pain to make sure I don’t fall asleep again. After I’m wide awake, I brewed the potions of the day: one that turns you into a rat, one that melts your bones, and one to catch frogs. Like any witch, I sang as I stirred–a cackling song of yore filled with curses and hexes. After I finished the mixture, I stored them in my bottomless bag and left for the forest. The forest is as old as the ever-rainy sky above; wi...
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