Miss Marble, a witch, of 46 Grimace Street, surveyed her garden and was displeased by what she saw.
It was a disgrace in her eyes. The weeds had well and truly taken over and what herbs there were left to survive looked sad and far from healthy.
At one time she had been obsessive about her garden having developed a number of potions to assist in the growth of her garden. Her herbs were essential when it came to making potions, which were always in demand.
What had happened, she pondered?
The growth potions had worked wonders on the weeds, which flourished at the expense of her valuable herbs.
A witch’s garden was worth nothing if it didn’t produce the herbs needed in her everyday work.
There was only one thing left for her to do. In her back shed where her cauldrons bubbled away most days she kept the…
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