Drabble!
A pile of beautiful, perfect apples.
A lovely young woman
An abandoned letter.
She stirs the blackened cauldron.
The cauldron simmers merrily.
She hums a little tune.
“Love” she whispers, then says it twice more.
Willing it into existence.
Refusing to believe otherwise.
The apples are plunged into the viscous liquid.
She’s careful not to touch it.
Bitterness seeps from her mouth as she recites the words.
“You’re mine and mine alone.
Another’s touch you shall not know.
And should you break faith,
I warned you what would happen”
A girl comes and carries the apples away.
Now he’ll pay
Loving the prompts to keep me writing.