The Sunday Whirl is a new challenge I am taking part in where every week a poem or short piece of prose is written using as many words from the wordle as possible. Here’s my first attempt.
I’d been waiting all month for this nerve wracking moment and I was running late. The full moon was floating above the forest while I hurried to gather the final ingredients and get back to my work. For some reason I never could get the timing right. I rambled through the bleak wilderness, cutting through some bare trees and tripping as my long skirts got caught on the roots. I pulled loose and felt a rip go all the way up the side of my dress. Nothing was going to stop me this time though and I battled on with my blazing torch. My breath was heavy and becoming opaque as it hit the icy air. I stumbled through the clearing and suddenly saw the slab of concrete I’d been looking for. The cauldron was waiting for me as I dumped my heavy bag on the floor. I crushed the beetles and added them to the waiting liquid that was already warm to the touch even though I hadn’t lit any fire. As the liquid began to boil my vision was blurred from the nebulous smoke as I watched it hover over the cauldron. After the syrupy mixture had cooled I dipped in my glass decanter and filled it to the rim, knowing that in 24 hours my troubles would be over. I would be free.