But I can still post my last writing prompt, my favorite of the three. My cousins and I all had a lot of fun with this one. Without further ado, "Witch feels self-doubt after an argument with Sidekick."
Was the potion tinged slightly red?
Ridiculous.
Witch slammed the cauldron lid shut. She had gotten the potion right. She'd made love potions a hundred times over. Despite girlish stereotypes, they were supposed to be bright, neon orange. In the 21st century, disguised easily enough as orange soda, though it was a little more conspicuous in this day and age.
She made them all the time. Of course she'd make another one for the next hero-worshipping fanboy who fell in love with his idol's little sister tomorrow. And of course she'd take her price and laugh gleefully as she watched chaos ensue. It was what she did. It was how she made a living.
But if she was really, truly honest with herself, was it the right thing to do?
"It never is!" she shrieked. Her mangy-furred night-black cat jumped at her voice. "That's why I do it!"
She shook her head. He had begged and pleaded, and she had done her usual schtick about tempting fate, things not turning out as wished for, blah blah blah. And as always, the potion was perfect, a lurid, bright orange.
But did this 16-year-old lad, just a kid really, deserve this kind of trouble? Did his wonderboy friend need that kind of distraction as he tried to save the world? And what about the girl?
She sighed and tucked a strange of wild gray hair back out of her face.
"I'm old and sentimental," she told the cat, "and that's all."
The cat meowed and sniffed at the cauldron. Witch shooed him away. She'd add more bleeding hearts next time.
Maybe it isn't as much of a trope as I made it out to be, but it still felt right. It'll be back to musing about writing and life next time. Good luck with finals week, all you college students, and happy Sunday to everyone else.
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