93. Potion: Write about a magic potion. What is it made of? What does it do? What is the antidote?
Writer's note: Looking back at my first post, I said I might use this for angst, or for writing prompts. I've tried writing to talk about my life, but that's just not practical for me. Oh well. Onto the prompt.
“Magic,” Laura stated, “is fake.” With that, she snapped the book shut and tossed it across the couch to Pam. The words “Beginner Spells” were pressed into the cover of the book in bright gold lettering.
Pam picked up the book and thumbed through it thoughtfully. She opened to roughly midway and read aloud, “How to bring someone back from the dead.”
Laura laughed. “Gee, I never realized that necromancy would be considered a Beginner Spell.”
“It looks so easy,” said Pam. “Maybe we could use it to revive my love life from the dead.”
They both giggled. “Fine, but I’m getting more wine,” Laura snorted, walking to the kitchen.
Pam considered the ingredients list and yelled, “We already have everything we need, here.”
When Laura returned, she sat on the couch and curled her legs under her. She brought two humorously large bottles of wine with her.
Laura flourished the corkscrew wickedly. “Which do you want?”
“What are my options?”
“This one has a picture of a flower on the front and is a white wine. This one is also white and,” Laura paused, inspecting the label, “has a different flower on it. Both are definitely white wine with flowers on the label and will get us trashed.”
Pam grabbed the corkscrew and the bottle nearer to her, deftly opening what was already the second bottle of the night. She poured Laura a glass first, followed by herself. After a long sip of pretty lackluster wine, she turned her attention back to the book.
“First we need to decide on who we are bringing back,” Pam began.
“Let’s bring back a celebrity!” Laura said. “A hot celebrity,” she added with a wink.
Pam puzzled over this. “A freshly dead hot celebrity? I don’t want to deal with body parts falling off all over the place.”
Neither Pam nor Laura suggested any attractive celebrities that had recently died. They finished their glasses of wine, and like clockwork, Pam refilled each glass.
“Ok, so not a celebrity. Do we know anyone that has recently died?” Pam wondered aloud.
Laura chimed in, “My aunt died. But,” she stopped herself, frowning, “that’s weird. No. Someone else.”
Pam brightened. “My ex-husband’s turtle died. I saw it on Facebook. Does that count?”
Laura snatched the book out of Pam’s lap. “Let’s see what the book has to say.”
After some exaggerated squinting, Laura announced, “The fine print indicates that while normally this spell will not work on animals, a specific exception is made for turtles of ex-spouses, so we’re in luck.”
“I’ll drink to that!” cheered Pam, and finished the rest of her wine in one gulp. They split the rest of the bottle of wine between the two of them and let the empty bottle roll away. Pam got up to chase after it, but stumbled.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to be asleep before we finish the spell,” Pam said. “What ingredients do we need?”
“We need a picture of the departed,” Laura read.
“Easy. If I can use your computer I’ll take it off his profile.”
They both crawled slowly to the other side of the room, where Laura had a home office set up. Pam punched in her password and searched for her husband.
“Joe. Joseph Hurley. Joseph Michael Hurley.” Pam said, scrolling through profiles. “I unfriended him,” she said, glancing behind to Laura. “He took our divorce pretty bad so I just cut ties with him. But I stalk him from time to time.”
“You don’t really talk about him very much. How long has it been since the divorce? We’ve been friends for 5 or 6 years now, right?”
“Aha, here’s the profile.” Pam ignored the question. “See, the turtle is the profile picture. Pathetic, right?”
She clicked the profile and as it populated, Laura had a sharp intake of breath and convulsively looked at Pam.
Joe. Joseph Hurley. Joseph Michael Hurley. Owner of a turtle, deceased. Ex-husband of Pam, was now engaged.
Pam’s eyes shot from her friend, back to the screen and trailed from the turtle, to the name, and finally landed on the relationship status.
What began as a slow sniffle was soon a full body sob.
Abruptly, Pam stopped.
“Click her name,” Pam said in eerie monotone. “I need to know.”
With hesitation, Laura hovered over the name of the woman now betrothed to Pam’s ex-husband. She clicked, and brought up a complete stranger’s life in pictures, links, and short notes.
Her name was Karen. She was younger than Pam. Thinner. Prettier. She posted about her beautiful life. She mentioned how sad she was for Joe’s turtle. She had a whole album dedicated to her engagement ring.
Pam was silent as she slowly walked back to the couch. She opened the third bottle and poured herself another glass of wine and took a very long sip. She reached into her purse and fished out a mirror. Her makeup was a smeared mess on her face, puffy with tears and wine.
Through this, Laura sat uncomfortably at the computer. “Is there anything I can do?” she offered.
“Not yet,” Pam said, mostly to herself. “Not yet,” she repeated to Laura, this time, smiling. “Let’s look at other spells, shall we?”
“Magic,” Laura stated, “is fake.” With that, she snapped the book shut and tossed it across the couch to Pam. The words “Beginner Spells” were pressed into the cover of the book in bright gold lettering.
Pam picked up the book and thumbed through it thoughtfully. She opened to roughly midway and read aloud, “How to bring someone back from the dead.”
Laura laughed. “Gee, I never realized that necromancy would be considered a Beginner Spell.”
“It looks so easy,” said Pam. “Maybe we could use it to revive my love life from the dead.”
They both giggled. “Fine, but I’m getting more wine,” Laura snorted, walking to the kitchen.
Pam considered the ingredients list and yelled, “We already have everything we need, here.”
When Laura returned, she sat on the couch and curled her legs under her. She brought two humorously large bottles of wine with her.
Laura flourished the corkscrew wickedly. “Which do you want?”
“What are my options?”
“This one has a picture of a flower on the front and is a white wine. This one is also white and,” Laura paused, inspecting the label, “has a different flower on it. Both are definitely white wine with flowers on the label and will get us trashed.”
Pam grabbed the corkscrew and the bottle nearer to her, deftly opening what was already the second bottle of the night. She poured Laura a glass first, followed by herself. After a long sip of pretty lackluster wine, she turned her attention back to the book.
“First we need to decide on who we are bringing back,” Pam began.
“Let’s bring back a celebrity!” Laura said. “A hot celebrity,” she added with a wink.
Pam puzzled over this. “A freshly dead hot celebrity? I don’t want to deal with body parts falling off all over the place.”
Neither Pam nor Laura suggested any attractive celebrities that had recently died. They finished their glasses of wine, and like clockwork, Pam refilled each glass.
“Ok, so not a celebrity. Do we know anyone that has recently died?” Pam wondered aloud.
Laura chimed in, “My aunt died. But,” she stopped herself, frowning, “that’s weird. No. Someone else.”
Pam brightened. “My ex-husband’s turtle died. I saw it on Facebook. Does that count?”
Laura snatched the book out of Pam’s lap. “Let’s see what the book has to say.”
After some exaggerated squinting, Laura announced, “The fine print indicates that while normally this spell will not work on animals, a specific exception is made for turtles of ex-spouses, so we’re in luck.”
“I’ll drink to that!” cheered Pam, and finished the rest of her wine in one gulp. They split the rest of the bottle of wine between the two of them and let the empty bottle roll away. Pam got up to chase after it, but stumbled.
“We have to slow down or I’m going to be asleep before we finish the spell,” Pam said. “What ingredients do we need?”
“We need a picture of the departed,” Laura read.
“Easy. If I can use your computer I’ll take it off his profile.”
They both crawled slowly to the other side of the room, where Laura had a home office set up. Pam punched in her password and searched for her husband.
“Joe. Joseph Hurley. Joseph Michael Hurley.” Pam said, scrolling through profiles. “I unfriended him,” she said, glancing behind to Laura. “He took our divorce pretty bad so I just cut ties with him. But I stalk him from time to time.”
“You don’t really talk about him very much. How long has it been since the divorce? We’ve been friends for 5 or 6 years now, right?”
“Aha, here’s the profile.” Pam ignored the question. “See, the turtle is the profile picture. Pathetic, right?”
She clicked the profile and as it populated, Laura had a sharp intake of breath and convulsively looked at Pam.
Joe. Joseph Hurley. Joseph Michael Hurley. Owner of a turtle, deceased. Ex-husband of Pam, was now engaged.
Pam’s eyes shot from her friend, back to the screen and trailed from the turtle, to the name, and finally landed on the relationship status.
What began as a slow sniffle was soon a full body sob.
Abruptly, Pam stopped.
“Click her name,” Pam said in eerie monotone. “I need to know.”
With hesitation, Laura hovered over the name of the woman now betrothed to Pam’s ex-husband. She clicked, and brought up a complete stranger’s life in pictures, links, and short notes.
Her name was Karen. She was younger than Pam. Thinner. Prettier. She posted about her beautiful life. She mentioned how sad she was for Joe’s turtle. She had a whole album dedicated to her engagement ring.
Pam was silent as she slowly walked back to the couch. She opened the third bottle and poured herself another glass of wine and took a very long sip. She reached into her purse and fished out a mirror. Her makeup was a smeared mess on her face, puffy with tears and wine.
Through this, Laura sat uncomfortably at the computer. “Is there anything I can do?” she offered.
“Not yet,” Pam said, mostly to herself. “Not yet,” she repeated to Laura, this time, smiling. “Let’s look at other spells, shall we?”