Zadie Counts the Bubbles — Each night after the moon winked in the high window, Zadie tapped her spoon on the cauldron and counted potion bubbles. Read the full story →
Each night after the moon winked in the high window, Zadie tapped her spoon on the cauldron and counted potion bubbles. “Ten in a row,” she whispered, because her little challenge was to stir slowly enough that none would pop too soon.
One night, a broom zipped loose with a swish-swish, and peppery smoke tickled her nose. Because Zadie turned to catch it, the brew burped blobs onto the rim. Because the blobs sizzled, her cat Pounce batted the spoon, and stars skittered across the floor.
Zadie planted both boots, breathed in the warm pumpkin smell, and stirred one soft circle at a time. Plip, plip, plip—ten bubbles rose, round and shiny. Next time you see her cauldron, count them quietly before they pop under the winking moon.
