She used to be so weak, so powerless. In her eyes, that had been the source of all her troubles, all the bad fortune she was ever a victim of. It didn't suit her either way, so she had taken power for herself. Always a bit sickly and unable to build much muscle, her only option was magic, the fickle thing so many frowned upon.
Now the magic would caress her, flow through her veins always. Its presence comforted her, yet something kept gnawing at her, and rendered her unable to truly enjoy her newfound strength. She hadn't realized it yet, but by feeding the hunger for power inside of her, she'd only made it more intense.
A/N: So many witches in this book. I swear this is the last one!
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Tiny Stories Part 2
Short StoryMy second collection of microfiction, sometimes dealing with the mundane, but mostly dealing with the magical. Unlike the first collection, the stories in this one are based on inktober prompts.
