The girl in the market stall wore a black T-shirt that said "Trust me I'm a witch" in sparkly letters. All around her, herbs and various trinkets, presumably "enchanted", whatever that meant. *I'm* an engineer and I'm telling you this is all a load of rubbish, even if some research claims some of it might be true. But Dee wanted something from the fair and I didn't want to let her down.
(1/2) #microfiction
"Do you sell the T-shirt?" I nodded at the girl's own. She could be two or three years older than Dee, a little thin but shining with similar eagerness.
"Sure we have T-shirts. Would you like an attraction boost, good-luck charm, or anything else?" She winked and suddenly looked older, grown up.
Oh well. Everything's enchanted now. "I guess a little good luck never hurt anyone."
"If you say so, ma'am."
She handed me a black-and-sparkly parcel and her tight smile was heavy as a century.
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