"Timmy! Come here, will you please? Now!"
The tone of mother's voice told Timmy he had better obey, and fast. He carefully folded the papers he had been studying and tucked them under the pillow. Then he sped downstairs into the kitchen from where mother's voice had come.
"Just what is this jussulent stuff in this crooked old pot? And what was it doing in my lardor?"
Timmy glanced at mother's tenebrous brow, then lowered his looks and fidgeted uncomfortably but no words came from his mouth.
"Another potion? Been reading that wizardy nonsense again? How many times do I have to tell you there is no such thing as magic and wizards only exist in tales! I wish you were so ebullient about school as you are about those silly old parchments the great grandmother had kept in her chest."
"They are called anopistographs, and..." Timmy started, but then decided it best to shut up.
"I don't care what they are called. If I ever find anything strange in the house again, you will get rid of them all! Now go and do your homework! But first get this hitonious broth out of my sight and don't even think of trying to hide it from me!"
Timmy sighed, carefully lifted the pot with its content and staggered through the door toward the backyard, taking care not to spill a drop. If his plan worked, he would never have to do another homework again. But the magic would have to wait for a better occasion. Or, maybe... He proceeded through the yard and paused by the barn where he put his cargo down to rest and think. Down by the brook, just a mile away, was a cavern hidden from the sight of the uninitiated. He and his cousin had discovered it a couple of summers ago and spent many a happy hour there, plotting all kinds of adventures. His cousin had gone back to the city but he could use their hiding place.
As he stood up, determined to carry out his plan, he accidentally knocked over the ragged old pot. He watched in horror as it hit a stone, shattered to pieces and its content spilt across the ground and over his tattered tennis shoes. Only a good half an hour later, when nothing happened, did he dare to move. He descended to the brook to wash the broth from the shoes and ran home. There he threw himself on the bed, sobbing. His mother might be right after all, and there is no way to avoid the tedious homework.
9 comments:
Awww poor Timmy. I so wanted to see is potion work. Mothers! Aren't they always right. Good story and the words were great, Well done!
Thom! I am telling Julie you said that! What's her address, please?
Juliana, great story starter. I hope this isn't the end!
I wanted the potion to work as well. Just think a potion that would write a poem a day for me.
Great writing.
Very well written story. Nice use of so many quilly words. But as a dragon I have to tell you some potions work.
His mom isn't called Mrs. Dursley, is she? Great story.
I have to join the others and say I was rooting for Timmy too! I enjoyed the story.
Poor Timmy. All I keep thinking is that Peter Parker thought nothing happened after he was bitten by that spider, and the next morning, he was Spider Man. Sometimes it just takes a little while for the potion to come into full effect. ;) Great use of the words, both new and from previous weeks. :)
than you all.
i have no idea if and how the story will continue but just in case i have left a few doors open so if i'm in a mood the potion might yet work. but in any case, it won't do timmy's homework for him ;)
A great story, though sad for poor Timmy. I nearly expected his potion to do something.
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