All For A Spell: A Short

Here, flowers don’t bloom because of the stench of evil rotting from the witch’s cottage. The strong, damp smell that goes across the barren field, towards the village.

It’s no wonder they built a high brick wall to keep it out.

Here, birds don’t land because of the witch’s carnivorous plants that guard her home. Those filthy teeth-bearing magical plants can stretch their long stems towards the nearest victim, be it on the ground or in the sky.

They say the witch controls the plants.

Here, nothing good ever comes out alive.

There, do you hear her? The deep, throaty laugh of hers when she’s brewing a new spell. She is always looking for new ways to lure people to come see her – a love spell, a wealth spell, a luck spell, anything a person would want. Villagers would only dare see her when they are in desperate need.

Like the newly-wed couple from the Prairie Hut. They’ve always wanted a baby, and Mrs. Button couldn’t have any. They tried and tried, until one night, Mr Button wouldn’t stand it any longer. He put on his coat, and trudged through the rainy night to see the witch. The next day, a baby Button was born.

I’ve seen the baby once. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen the family, too. I wonder where they have gone?

There, do you see the cottage? Notice the broken tiles of the roof. To think the witch knows a good many spells, she could’ve conjured up one to fix it. And there, can you spot the door? No one can, not until you’ve gone closer to the cottage. Don’t worry, the creeper plants coiling on the walls won’t eat you – only those potted flowers.

Oh, they’re only flowers now because the witch knows you’re here. Go on, open the door.

But there is no doorknob. They say, she has placed a spell on the door. It will only open when she is expecting a visitor, and that that visitor has arrived. Also, this way she won’t lose any of her precious spells – no thieves or good-for-nothings could come through.

There, do you smell that? It’s mostly coming from the damp and rotting wood of the floorboards. But the strong musty smell – that’s her. They say it only smells stronger when she’s near. How strong is it now?

Oh. There she is. Looking at you.


Our World: A Short

After an hour I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to get away from that horrid place.

The place where grass did not grow.

Where metal beasts are allowed to run in the open, back and forth.

Where little children are being kept in cages, and left alone.

Where people like me would walk around and talk to themselves, as though somebody was there with them.

I had to get away from there.

I ran across the great muddy fields, climbed high over the fences that separated our world and theirs, and never looked back until I had reached the comfort of my own home.

When I finally stopped and felt the familiar ground, scattered with hard pebbles and pinecones, I looked around at my homely surroundings and took a deep breath.

Ahh, pure and natural air.

I crawled into the safety of my cave, and kneeled across my brother who, like me, was dressed in a burlap sack and was busy picking his nose, indicating, “What have you found?”

I scraped my fingers across the floor, and tapped my foot 3 times. “They have flat and cold floors!”

My brother gasped. “No grass or trees?”


He urged me to fill him in with more details of the horrible world I had just returned from. “Well c’mon then! What else?” He clapped his hands.

“They have big tall trees with people living in them!

“Oh dear!”

“They have colored caves with holes where you can see people eating in them!”

“How intrusive!”

“They have beasts that are shiny and could move without legs!”

“The monstrosity!”

He backed away further into the cave, his eyes bigger than the leaf saucers we use for our daily morning dew. He had his hands to his ears, unwilling to hear anymore of my stories.

I approached him apprehensively, holding out my hand to reach for him in an attempt to calm him.

“Relax, brother. They will not find us,” I comforted him. As soon as my hand touched his arm, his eyes softened. My brother was always the scaredy-cat among us, but he was brave, too. In a way.

“We have to… We have to warn the others! The others!” He exclaimed, pushing me against the wall and running out into the night.

I sighed, picked up his burlap sack that he left behind and went after him.