“Why does a handsome young man like you need a love potion?”
He blushed until his face was the colour of brick.
“She don’t want me. Says I don’t have enough money nor prospects.”
The witch held out a grubby hand into which he dropped a copper penny.
“Three days.”
He collected the bottle and went on his way. Whistling.
As he made his way home it was as if the scales fell from his eyes. He turned away from the cold one, back into the waiting arms of his childhood sweetheart.
There’s more than one sort of love potion…
Leave a comment