The Witch

The potion sits on the top shelf.

Margaux lifts the last of the heavy pumpkins and places it on her porch. No time to carve them this year.  She notices the sun dip behind the trees. She is already running late.

She quickly opens the bag of candy and pours it into a bowl.

Standing on tip-toes, she reaches up and brushes away a cobweb as her hand finds the dusty vile.

No need for a costume this year. She drinks.

The reflection in the hall mirror looks like a witch, or is it just a trick of the light?

 

–Created for Susanna Hill’s 9th Annual Halloweensie Writing Contest

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