(no subject)
[Susan's Diary]
1 May, 2001
I remember the first time I saw my mother brew a potion. I must have been four or five. She was showing me how she made a PepperUp potion to fight the cold that I had. I remember how stuffed up my head was and how long the potion was taking to brew. She told me that a watched cauldron never brews.
Something about how time seems to slow down when you're truly waiting. And when you're impatient for an answer.
Right now I'm waiting. I shouldn't have let it go this long... and without telling Terry as well... But the chemist in the town told me this was one of the best and I shouldn't have to worry and I'd get my answer right away. Only right away isn't coming. The clock must be stopped and I can't seem to make the seconds tick by faster.
The "what if" questions are countless. What if the answer is yes? What would we do? The unknown completely terrifies me. Especially with something as big as this. And what would I say to everyone? "Sorry I can't help out anymore because it's just not safe?" I knew that coming here wasn't safe.... but I didn't factor in...
I guess I'll go check now.
... Oh.
Okay. But why do I feel disappointed now?
Tucked in with the entry is a magically shrunk down answer to Susan's questions.
1 May, 2001
I remember the first time I saw my mother brew a potion. I must have been four or five. She was showing me how she made a PepperUp potion to fight the cold that I had. I remember how stuffed up my head was and how long the potion was taking to brew. She told me that a watched cauldron never brews.
Something about how time seems to slow down when you're truly waiting. And when you're impatient for an answer.
Right now I'm waiting. I shouldn't have let it go this long... and without telling Terry as well... But the chemist in the town told me this was one of the best and I shouldn't have to worry and I'd get my answer right away. Only right away isn't coming. The clock must be stopped and I can't seem to make the seconds tick by faster.
The "what if" questions are countless. What if the answer is yes? What would we do? The unknown completely terrifies me. Especially with something as big as this. And what would I say to everyone? "Sorry I can't help out anymore because it's just not safe?" I knew that coming here wasn't safe.... but I didn't factor in...
I guess I'll go check now.
... Oh.
Okay. But why do I feel disappointed now?
Tucked in with the entry is a magically shrunk down answer to Susan's questions.
