Maraganna’s Magic

Maraganna walked over to the oven in her kitchen.

She opened the oven door, convinced her cake was well and truly baked by now. A gust of hot air rushed from the oven, sending her to the floor and slamming the kitchen door shut. The slamming of the door shook the wall, which sent a book flying off the bookcase which was against the wall on the other side. The book landed with a thump beside Huffle, who had been sleeping soundly, and was now three feet in the air with spiky fur from head to toe.

Maraganna looked at the flat glob of cake mix in the tin. She looked away, and then looked again, hoping she hadn’t seen the disaster the first time. With a sigh and a roll of her eyes, she pointed to the cake tin which hovered out of the oven and gently lowered itself onto the top of the oven. Maraganna turned off the oven and closed the door. She then mumbled, uttered and muttered an ancient incantation for reconstruction. She then waited for a few seconds and watched as the cake mix whirled itself around in the tin. It swirled. It rose. It sliced. From nowhere it spread fresh jam and cream between the two halves. It smeared itself with icing. And finally it decorated itself with a handful of cherries and a sprinkling of hundreds and thousands. The cake then positioned itself on one of Maraganna’s best plates.

“Splendid!” Smiled Maraganna. “I do love baking.”

After all the excitement, Maraganna decided to wait a while before helping herself to a slice, and walked out of the kitchen. Huffle was still mid-air, but looking more like his usual self. He mewed when he saw Maraganna, and gently lowered himself to the floor beside the book.

“What’s this?” Maraganna asked, picking up the book. “Have you been trying to cast one of my spells, Huffle?” She tickled her familiar under his chin. Huffle rolled his eyes, and curled around himself again. He was determined to finish his catnap. Maraganna looked at the cover of her book, and noticed it wasn’t one of her spell books, but a book of her own poetry. “Ooh, I haven’t seen this in years!”

She opened the book to the first page.

“I remember this!” She smiled.

The Lady Who Lived In The Obelisk!

She lives in a room with no windows and doors
Whatever she needs comes up through the floor 

To go outside she flies through a wall 
Or the size of a mouse through a hole she crawls
But having a cat she doesn’t do that often

“Hmmm. I don’t appear to have finished that one.” She flicked to the next page, and read aloud:

Huffle The Magic Cat

Huffle Snuffle Piffle Pab
A magic cat with a friendly jab 

With a mew he falls asleep 
Most of the time

Huffle mewed once again, and walked  over to the far corner of the living room and behind the sofa. He had to finish his sleep.

“Obviously, this one was based on real life. You haven’t changed much Huffle, have you?” She flicked through the remainder of the book, and all the pages were blank. A slip of paper floated out which she caught with a point of her left index finger. She beckoned for the piece of paper to fly to her hand, which it did.

I clear the room for I want to dance
Will it rain I wonder perchance 

I dance and sway and kick and twirl 
I’m such a flexible wizard girl

With a flash of lightning and clap of thunder, all of the furniture in the living room vanished. Huffle found his fur spiking again, only this time due to the amount of static electricity in the air. He stared at Maraganna as another clap of thunder brought heavy rain to the living room.

“Oh. My Goodness!” Declared Maraganna, realising the third poem wasn’t a poem at all, but an unfinished spell she’d written so she didn’t have to perform another raindance. She uttered the same ancient incantation she’d used with the cake, but this time she concentrated on the living room. Within seconds, the rains cleared, the room dried and the furniture returned. Maraganna sighed with relief and then returned her poetry book to the bookshelf and slipped her weather spell into the spellbook beside it.

Huffle climbed onto the sofa and curled up once again, this time beside a cushion.

Maraganna decided she needed a slice of cake now, and a strong cup of tea.

11 responses to “Maraganna’s Magic”

  1. Chris Hall avatar

    I wonder if the inability to cook conventionally is a common trait in witches? Mind you, why learn to bake when you can just wave your wand? Or your ‘baguette magique’, as it’s known in French. I discovered that yesterday. Got to work that in somewhere!!)

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Tom avatar

      Baguette Magique! Sounds like it should really be used for food, Chris!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Chris Hall avatar

        Use it to stir well for a crazy, magical kind of soup!

        Liked by 1 person

  2. pendantry avatar

    You drew me in to this yarn very cleverly, Tom. Good work!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Tom avatar

      Thanks, Pendantry!

      Liked by 1 person

  3. niasunset avatar

    So nice… and cat’s looking face is amazing… Thank you dear Tom, have a nice June, Love, nia


  4. prenin avatar

    Good one Tom! 🙂 ❤

    Magick can sometimes have unexpected results! 🙂 ❤

    Blessed Be!


    Liked by 1 person

    1. Tom avatar

      It certainly can, Prenin! Sometimes even in a good way!

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Diane Henders avatar

    Hmmm. I never realized poetry could be dangerous! 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Tom avatar

      Maraganna has a tendency to make anything dangerous, Diane. Luckily, Huffle has a calming influence – most of the time!

      Liked by 1 person

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