THE FOUL CONCOCTION
The foul concoction brooded at the bottom of the cauldron.
Why in the name of liquid brews everywhere did the crone add that last tincture of awareness to me? Trapped, nay puddled as I am in the depths of this ugly pot, what possible benefit can the awareness of my own existence bring to me? Pah! There she is again, looming above with her toothless grin. What now? An apple? Dipping an apple into me? Drip and gleam. Now I know! Yes! I cling to the apple for revenge. Who will bite it and taste my dark gift?
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