The Witch’s promise

Trifecta: Week 110

Time for Trifecta challenge and this is what they have to say for this week’s challenge:)

Now onto this week’s Trifecta prompt. We’re back to one word and its third definition. And, of course, as many syllables as you please in your 333-word limit! Happy writing! QUAINT (adjective)  3a : unusual or different in character or appearance :  ODD   b : pleasingly or strikingly old-fashioned or unfamiliar <a quaint phrase> Remember: • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words. • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post. • The word itself needs to be included in your response. • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. • Only one entry per writer.

 See more at:

Here is my 330 word story-hope you enjoy reading this as much I enjoyed writing it:-)


The Witch’s promise

They peered over the hedge, looking into a garden. Mrs. Crabtree was collecting luscious strawberries from her plants and humming to herself.

“ Isn’t she old?” Amy mused.

“Umm, very! And oh so quaint!”said Jack, stifling a laugh.

“She kind of reminds me of Miss Marple”, added Kate, the bookworm.

“And pray who is Miss Marple?”

“You are such an oaf Paul! Miss Marple was a character by Agatha Christie-the charming old lady who solved murder mystery!”Boasted Kate.

“Pooh!”Said Paul and made a face at Kate.

The youngest of the group, Laura whispered, “I don’t like this. Let us go. I think she is a witch.”

They all burst out laughing and had to duck immediately. They would wait for a more opportune moment to steal some of those lovely strawberries.

Next week, the five did just that –Laura refused. As the Sun was setting, they walked up to her cottage and made sure, no one was home. Then, they sneaked in through the hedge and stole a basket of strawberries.

On the verge of leaving, their noses were assailed by the delicious smell of freshly baked apple tarts and chicken pies and they told each other, “No harm in just looking.”

And off they went up the garden path, into the warm kitchen.

There their eyes widened when they saw the sumptuous spread laid on the table-delicacies they all loved. Torn between the desire to dig in and leave, they stood transfixed.

At that very moment, the front door opened and Mrs. Crabtree entered the room. She did not seem surprised to see 5 uninvited teenagers in her house. Instead she smiled and told them,”Come on children.Don’t be shy. Eat your fill.I promise you won’t regret this.”

So they did, failing to notice the glint in Mrs. Crabtree’s eyes as she served them more food, humming under her breath,”The witch’s promise was coming,you’re looking elsewhere for your own selfish gain…”

If only they had listened to little Laura…




Goblin in boots

Friday Fictioneers

Time for penning those magical(or mundane) 100 words or so for Rochelle Wisoff-Field’s wonderful site FF.(For more information and fun ,go to Rochelle always manages to set the bar high with her excellent writing and this leaves writers like me scratching their heads and staring blankly into space.This time was no exception, with my migraine being the icing on the cake.So without much ado,let me just get down to posting my 102 words story(including the title)based on this photo prompt ,provided by Adam Ickes:-)

Copyright - Adam Ickes

                                               Copyright – Adam Ickes



Goblin in boots


Goblin Trotsneak sat on a toadstool weighed down by over sized boots, looking morose.

His mischievousness had cost him his freedom.

Everyone had warned him but paying no heed he had gone skipping.

He was confident he would not get caught.

First, he had switched potions gleefully.

Then the boots on the windowsill beckoned.

As he was dropping them into the cauldron, Grey Witch had flown in and cast her deadly spell.

“You dared enter

a witch’s haunt

forever now bear the brunt

the boots you touched

will grow on you

for eternity may

the curse be on you.








Cupid’s angst

Trifecta: Week Sixty-Four


This week,Trifecta asked us to respond to the following word prompt –

Please remember:
  • Your response must be between 33 and 333 words.
  • You must use the 3rd definition of the given word in your post.
  • The word itself needs to be included in your response.
  • You may not use a variation of the word; it needs to be exactly as stated above. 
  • Only one entry per writer.
  • Trifecta is open to everyone.  Please join us.


And Boy,did I dwell on it-phew,don’t even ask!Well,for what it is worth,here is what I came up with-hope its not too bad:-)



Cupid’s angst


 “Why so sad, Honey?”asked Psyche.


“I think, I have lost my touch,” replied Cupid, glumly.


“What do you mean?”


“My arrows are failing to wound & inflame hearts …” Cupid trailed off.



“You are the God of love-no one is immune to your spell,” said Psyche, reassuring her husband.


“You think I am making it up?” retorted Cupid, a little irritated.


“No, I think it must be some glitch. Just relax,” said Psyche soothingly.


“I don’t want to dwell on it but ..,” said Cupid, looking forlorn.


Psyche noted the wan look, the drooping shoulders, the missing twinkle in his eyes-where was the fun loving & mischievous Cupid? She had to do something.


Aloud she said,” Just give me a day, I will find a solution.”


This reeked of foul play & she had her suspicions.


She had to find out.


Apollo started when he saw her & said a little too warmly (who did not know of the animosity between the two households?),”Welcome to my humble home Psyche. What brings you here so early in the day?”


“Cut the niceties Apollo. What mischief have you been making in Cupid’s workshop? His arrows are ineffective.”


Psyche saw a flicker of a smug smile appear & disappear in a flash.


So ,she thought,it IS him.


Apollo said,”Now, now, .why should I even think of doing such a thing? You are letting your imagination run away with you Psyche.”


“Really? So tell me what this is doing here Apollo,” said Psyche, moving to pick up the tell tale trademark feather from Apollo’s robes.


Apollo looked trapped. He had in fact spent most of the night in Cupid’s armory sabotaging the arrows.Oh, darn that feather!!


Psyche said, “If you do not set things right by today evening, I shall have to take this matter to Zeus & the council of Gods. Am sure you do not want that.”


Apollo’s mumbled apology told Psyche that her words had hit home.


She smiled.