(this is a companion to my other story “peeling potatoes.” you can still understand this story if you haven’t read the other one.)

this was an absolute disaster. the house was a mess, the dinner was half ready, and the rain was pounding down on the roof of my little cottage relentlessly.

oh, and another thing i forgot to add: my neighbor could be here any minute.

i didn’t _want_ to, i really, _really_ didn’t. but in the end, i was forced to resort to my spellbook. what else was i supposed to do?

flipping through the pages to the _C_ chapter, i ran through all the possible risks in my head. my new and only neighbor was very much human, one of the kinds that absolutely denied any existence of magic. (from my experience, these are the kind that have heart attacks upon finding out) if he so much as had a glimpse into the truth of my house, a big chance is he’d die from the shock.

_why is the _Q_ section so long?! why did i even invite him over?! _

_ _passing through the Ws, i considered a weather spell.

not a chance.

finally, C! _cats, cars, capes, curtains, classes, classics, countries, counting, cooking, crying, company, complacency, compliments, complaints, cords, clout, communication._

where was cleaning? i was not going to use magic for cooking, because if anything, magic is most detectable by taste.

i leafed through the Cs again, and a third time, and a fourth, until i was so angry i might as well have been the color of a tomato.

until i thought that maybe i had written it under a different title. i started flipping backwards through the book: Xs, Zs, Ls, Ks, Js, Hs, Gs, Fs, Ds, Ss, As, Ps, Os, Is, Us, Ys, Ts-

there it was! _tidying_!

_the most effective tidying spell, beware of quantity of skin- excessive portions create unnatural amounts of dust. LEATHER IS NOT A WORKING SUBSTITUTE FOR SKIN. _

_ _

_ ingredients: _

_ - owl feather (peacock works too) _

_ - 2-3 inches of skin (must be mammal) _

_ - woode (i have found, strangely, that a wooden cube works best) _

_ - sock _

_ - lint _

_ instructions: _

_ - burn in fireplace, state places needed to be cleaned, recite: cleane, tidy, home o’ mine_

after performing the spell, i ran into the kitchen. i had decided on soup the day earlier, and the recipe was taped to the fridge.

i was grabbing the carrots from the fridge when it caught my eye; the piece of paper from a few weeks ago.

a white notebook page, ripped out from my new spellbook, with a big word in bold at the top: trees.

i still couldn’t get that blasted spell to work. it made me angry every time i looked at it; i was _so_ close.

alas, it escaped from me every time.

i was cutting carrots when the doorbell rang.i almost opened the door before i remembered in a panic that the house was still cleaning itself. i snapped my fingers, and then opened the door.

~

“have a seat, the soup is almost ready.”

“ooo, i love soup!” he said, taking his hat off and putting it on his lap.

“i hope it wasn’t hard getting here in this weather,” i said, “i really didn’t think it would rain today!”

“nonsense, it’s only a ten minute walk to your house. besides, i checked the forecast, i was prepared.”

we sat and ate in silence.

“so.. what made you decide to move here?”

“well, i’ve always lived in the city before this. being an artist, it does have its inspirations, but often can be loud and gray and sometimes depressing. i decided i needed a change of scenery; what better place for artistic freedom than a forest with one neighbor who lives in a sweet little house?”

“that’s a good reason,” i say, though i really could never see myself moving just to have a better place to paint. “it’s nice here, you’ll like it.“

“i already do; although getting groceries can be a pain”

~

it was dark out, and the rain had stopped.

“so, tell me a bit about yourself. what do you do for a living?”

i was prepared for this question. i couldn’t say witch, obviously, so therefore i had to come up with a substitute.

“i grow herbs and specialty plants, and then sell them in the market every weekend. in the winter, i preserve and pickle things and sell those too.”

“you make a living just by selling herbs?”

“they’re very rare,” i say nervously.

“i see.” silence. then, after a minute, “is it lonely? with no family, no friends? no sound of cars or music or people talking?”

“i mean.. i guess it would be, if i was used to that. i kind of like the silence, and the peace of knowing i’m alone.it does get lonely, especially after my relatives are done visiting for the holidays, but i manage. some nights i stay inside and read a book, and some i lay silently on the grass and listen to the trees argue.”

he laughs. “what do you mean, ‘argue’”?

shit, i messed up. i’ve never considered myself an awkward person, but maybe that’s because i haven’t been around people much.

“you know.. sometimes when you’re around something you appreciate, it’s like you can hear it talk. like.. like it has a mind of its own.”

he smiles and nods. “yeah, i get that.”

and all of a sudden, a comfortable, warm feeling sprouts in my chest.