#ShortShortStories

a cure for the common block

Paper Hearts

The Old Crone stirred her mortar and pestle, crushing the leaves and bones and
black rock into a fine dust. She glared at the young man, who hid his fear of her
behind a look of contempt. She spat in the mortar and poured in the concoction
from another bowl: rabbits blood, snake venom, and virgin tears. She mixed them
until it was thick like gravy and black like tar and handed it to the boy. “Drink
this before bed,” she said “you’ll dream of her and your happy life. If she loves
you, you will awaken and have lasting love; if she does not, your dream will not end.”

#ShortShortStories #PaperHearts

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