Mireya the young witch desired the Woodsmith’s son, Bryce. One day she learned that he admired long lustrous hair. So during the full moon she planted a magical seed.
The flower grew and bloomed, but in the morning the petals were all gone. “Oh no! My magic flower.”
“What’s wrong?” said her sister, Weylyn.
“My flower. It was going to give me long beautiful hair.”
“Simple. Just harvest the petals, douse them in water, and apply them to the skin.”
Weylyn grimaced and scratched her itchy legs. “Uh oh.”
“What if I bathed in the petals?”
Written for the Friday Fictioneers: https://rochellewisoff.com/2018/02/21/23-february-2018/