MILLIE
“I’m bored,” said Millie.
“Why don’t you take the elephant for a walk, or feed the cobras, or practice your potions, or cast spells? You like to cast spells. Go into the garden and cast spells,” suggested Millie’s mother, Brunna, hunched over the cauldron, busily stirring.
“What garden? We don’t even have a garden,” said Millie.
“Exactly,” said Brunna, winking and showing her tooth with a crooked smile.
“Oh,” said Millie, and she went outside to peer at the mud, the rocks, and the bent dead trees strangled with vines.
Three hours, eight spells, and fourteen potions later, a lovely garden surrounded the witchly hut home. Millie drooped back inside, casting her wand aside with a shrug and a sigh.
“I’m still bored,” she said. “Nothing ever happens.”
Brunna, without looking, tossed spangles from her cloak pocket at Millie. Millie was a rickety stick creature with soft yellow feelers.
“This is more like it!” thought Millie, and she wobbled stiffly and happily all around the garden.
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