Seated with my jaw on my intertwined fingers, my gaze never wavered from the hollowed grey object in front of me or the flower that bloomed from it. A young calla lily was sprouting from the flower pot. Two of its white buds had bloomed delightfully, and then there was one still enclosed and sadly looking like it would remain that way while the others blossomed. At least unless I could do something about it.
It was a simple task, child’s play even. Make the bud bloom into a beautiful flower like the others had. I had learned the spell. Now, it was just to practicalize it. Caroline could already do it when she was five. This should have been easy for me, only I had been in this position for forty-five minutes, and the flower still had one closed bud.
No matter how long and hard I stared,
