Prompt: Spell

Prompt: A spell that let you complete all your errands at once works, but now, you can’t remember doing anything.

I ran my hand over the photographs in the tired album, my eyes flickering over the pictures in desperate attempts to find something I recognised.

There are many things that must be done!

The words spin in my head. I remember those and little else.

A photograph of a pleasant looking family; another of a happy couple holding a newborn baby; a third of an expensive wedding ceremony. None of them mean anything to me, but I know they should.

I raise my hands to examine them. The fingers are long, slender and feminine; the skin young and firm. They tremble as I place them back down on the album to touch the photographs once more.

There are many things that must be done!

The things were done. I know that. As time has gone on, that has been the only thing I have been able to cling to, the only thing that I can remember. For everything else, I have my photographs, but who I am in the pictures and where the other people are is beyond my comprehension.

They could feasibly be images of a family I have never met.

There are many things that must be done!

I recall thinking those words over and over again. There were too many things to do and there was too little time to do them in. I remember I found a way to make them all disappear – to complete them in the blink of an eye.

Nothing more.

I ran my hand over the photographs in the tired album, my eyes flickering over the pictures in desperate attempts to find something I recognised. My fingers are long, bony and stiff; my skin pale and wrinkled.

Still I stay there, because there are no more things to do.


This was originally a prompt on Tumblr. Prompt: With this spell, the more he drinks, the thirstier he will be. Finally, you have your revenge.


It happened a long time ago. The world was a brighter place back then and I had been happily ignorant of some of the things people could do. Magic was something that belonged in fairy tales and fantasy; witches and wizards had been poor, unfortunate souls who had been unpopular in an age of misunderstanding.

He had introduced me to something more. At first, it had been exciting. In fact, it had been romantic. We spent decades together, doing nothing more than what we considered right, helping those who needed and deserved good health, money or whatever else we could provide via magical means. Our children received the greatest gift we had to offer: abnormally long lives. They, too, became like us.

I have no idea what changed within him, or exactly when he changed, but I do know one thing: it is tiresome to live for hundreds of years. We had to look after ourselves very well. Neither of us were immortal and we were both fully aware of that. I have to watch my back all the time now, because he’s no longer the man he once was.

I’m thankful that he taught me a lot, but I’ve been suspicious for a while now that he didn’t teach me everything. It may have happened a long time ago, but the death of our eldest son is still clear in my mind. His father had been trying to kill me, but I’d taken to wearing powerful symbols of protection and so he went after someone close to me in the hope that it would draw me out into the open. Our son never wanted us to fight; he had always believed his father would change. He had been wrong.

I’ve lost count of how many years I’ve spent looking for some weakness in his protective symbols and enchantments. We’ve both had those moments when we thought we were victorious – and when we thought we’d been defeated. Now I think, at last, that I’ve found a way to end our feud.

The spell I’m using isn’t a difficult one but it is rather old. I’ve been searching for a way to get my revenge for so long that I know weapons and poison are useless; I know that if I truly want to make him pay for what he’s done, I have to be patient. I’ve been over everything I know. I’ve sought help and advice from those I know I can trust. Using magic in this way is frowned upon, so I’ve had to tread carefully. At last, I’ve found something I believe will work. He won’t know he’s dying until it’s too late.

His protection was the hardest thing to overcome. Perhaps, after all the time I spent with him, loving him, I didn’t want to find a way to harm him; sometimes I wonder if he feels the same. Nonetheless, I know it must be done.

Without first breaking down the strong defences he’s established, any spell would be useless. I searched for many years to find a way to weaken him, but I think I’ve always known what it would cost. I have to sacrifice something dear to me to get my revenge. I’m tired, though. I’m ready.

Which brings me to where I am today. I’ve lost the greatest gift I ever had to offer; I’m dying. It gives me great pleasure to know that none of this is in vain: he, too, is dying now. I’m not sure whether he recognises this yet, but my spell is going to kill him. Every time he drinks, he will become thirstier and thirstier – and by the time that he realises what I’ve done, there will be nothing he can do about it.

Revenge is sweet. The cost is more than worth it.