Witch’s Brew

As a family of spellcasters, the Fosters knew all too well when to lay low. Once they made it to a dingy pub on the outskirts of town, the eldest daughter shook out her umbrella, eyed the clientele, and motioned for her family to enter. Just then, a wand fell from her sleeve.

The wand spun around the floor creating small colorful sparks. So much for subtlety, thought Marie. Her family, who followed behind her, eyed her with frustration. She used her umbrella to cover the wand as the pub owner came over. “Back for more unicorn chowder, I see!” he said.

“Not today, sir... we’d just like some warm drinks and a chance to get out of the weather. Do you have hot sumac tea, with shark milk?” The pub owner frowned then brightened. “I’ve just the thing!”

With that, the purveyor retrieved an old shoe box from the coat room, and opened it slowly on the pub bar. He removed a shiny blue tea kettle and winked. “No one’s asked for tea in years.” Everything was gonna be okay.