Potion

by Margaret Glover


Stacie’s wrists burned from the ropes.

“Are you going to poison me?”

“Poison? Oh Stacie, poison is such a nasty word.  Let’s call it a potion instead, hmm?”

“I heard you were a witch.”

“And I heard you were fondling my husband.”

Stacie let out a whimper.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill you?  Oh no, no, nothing like that dear. I'm just going to, shall we say, enhance your appearance a tad.  Now, how does a cute little six inch hook nose and a few dozen genital warts sound to you, hmm?

"Oh, stop your squirming, and drink.”

Author bio: I am currently a writer and Psychiatric RN in New Hampshire and have had a story published in Writers Haven.