She was magic

I’ve always loved listening to stories. Stories of witches and wizards, ghosts that haunt people’s lives, killers with no mercy, the lands of the mystical, and the land of the unknown. What I always find myself fascinated with was, however, the women living in swaps making concoctions that saved lives, shamans, witches that helped instead of destroying, and spirits of the past that help from a better now.

My little obsession led me to make mystical concoctions out the leaves, flowers, and twigs that I would on my aunt’s estate.  My purple portion would cure stomach aches, made from leaves and flowers, and just a pinch of sand. The green portion would make you taller. It required basil flowers, guava leaves and the skin of a jackfruit, ground with a stone from the river, in a coconut shell.  The yellow one came from coconut flesh, ripe guavas, unripe guavas, and little yellow flowers that aimed to be sunflowers but could do so. It could make you strong and brave. The red one came from the near blooming roses, little buds that wanted to see the light of day, but never quite got around to it. It also contained little bits of red guavas and the flesh of the much recommended Aloe Vera. It made all your fears go away. It could cure PTSD.

I’d mix anything I could find, and walk around curing and helping things that needed my services. I would make little potions that could make them grow, big and strong. Potions that made their roots go deep into the ground, finding water in springs we didn’t know existed. I would swing like Tarzan from tree to tree, in the little jungle that grew near our home, searching for the rarer herbs and spices that I would need. This jungle was said to be home to the dangerous Moova- a snake who would haunt your dreams if he was ever disturbed. I used the yellow portion when I when I went in there. I never met him though. If I did, I’d like to think we’d be friends. I would do the same if I was in his place After all, who likes being woken from a nap?

When I saw two animals who wouldn’t get along, I would give them my pink potion. Made from purple and yellow chrysanthemums, white lotuses and red lilies, my potion would make then fall in love almost instantly. I once used them when two of our cats didn’t get along. We had kitten three months later.

I could make a bird with broken wings fly again. I would use wet mud, the feather of a well-chased chicken, and the flower of a banana plant to make a paste which I would then put on the little birdie, and bind with the leaf of a papaya tree. The little birdie would fly soon enough, because one day, they would just disappear.

My Potions helped, cured and improved. You see, they were magic.

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