The Witch and the Butterflies

The Witch and the Butterflies

 

 In the hush of the night, a stream of majestic butterflies flew toward a lone tree. An old hag living in a cottage adjacent to the knoll is on her way back from the nearby swamp. Now, as this old witch only had one eye, she couldn’t see as she began walking through the parade of butterfly wings.

“These darn bats,” said The Witch, “Always in my way!” They weren’t bats but she didn’t care, as she was in a hurry to return to her shack to brew her potions. Shooing away the butterflies with a spell book and a sachet of newts’ eyes under her arms, she scurried into her cellar.

The Witch began brewing a recipe from her book. Sparks and fire were shooting out of her cauldron. Purple and green mists were swirling around the room as she added ingredients into the pot. She added the newts’ eyes one at a time, and when the last one was in, a cloud of ashes exploded into her face.

“Oh drat!” As she read the book she said, “This calls for eyes of frog, not newt!” Angrily, the old woman ran out of her cottage only to run into the butterflies again.

“These stupid birds!” Once again she waved them off of her and continued to the swamp. After returning, she once again ran into the butterflies.

“I HATE THESE OWLS!” (They were still butterflies.) Breathing heavily, she scuttled to the top of the hill to figure out where all of the butterflies were going. At the top she noticed a fountain springing from the tree trunk. Each butterfly was landing in the stream going down the trunk, taking a drink, and the flying back.

“What’s going on here?” she said as one of the butterflies landed on her shoulder.

“We all used to be witches just like you,” the bug replied, “until we made a bad potion that turned us into these hideous beasts. This fountain is supposed to turn us back into humans, but we’ve been trying for weeks with no results!”

“Hideous is right!” replied The Witch. “I think I might just have a brew for you! I’ll be back!”

Excitedly she ran back to her cottage to retrieve the potion, cackling as she went. She arrived at the basement and swung the doors open. She got so excited knowing that the butterflies would soon be gone that had she tripped down the stairs. After picking up the potion she began running back. She got halfway to the butterflies when she tripped and dropped the small bottle containing the potion made of frogs’ eyes. The glass shattered nut The Witch did not falter. She called out to the butterflies.

“Hey you,” she said, “come and drink this!”

One by one the creatures came to drink.

“It’s not working!” said the butterflies. “We can’t be saved!”

“”This has to work!” replied The Witch.

In all the excitement the hag began to drink. Instantly The Witch was turned into a butterfly. It turns out she needed newts’ eyes all along.