Her First Spell

Isadora’s mother grasps her hands and smiles at her.

‘I know this is your first time, but everyone in the coven has been there, and we are here to support you’.

Isadora looks around the circle, nods, picks up a handful of herbs and throws them into the cauldron. As she stirs, she recites under her breath the first spell she has ever written. She dips a silver chalice into the brew but, before she can pass it round the circle, wrinkled fingers tear it from her grasp. Her ancient grandmother holds it up, savouring the spell and the faint perfume from its chalice, steals away into a corner and gulps it down.

‘I haven’t even told you what the spell is for!’ Isadora stamps her fourteen-year-old foot.

But it’s too late. Her grandmother sprouts black crow feathers and flies out of the window.

Kim M. Russell, 11^th May 2026

This Monday at the dVerse Poets Pub we are writing Prosery with Dora and a line from a poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar.

Dora reminds us that Prosery is a piece of prose fiction using a given line of poetry, and gives us some background to this month’s poet, Paul Laurence Dunbar and the poem from which she has taken the line to be included in our prose: ‘Sympathy’.

“And the faint perfume from its chalice steals—”

Our piece of prose must have no more than 144 words including this line, which may be changed with breaks or punctuation, but without altering the order of the words.