“There will be only three days in this seminar,” Penwell announced, as she thrusted her hand towards the class. “A day of Initiation, a day of Realization and a day of Finalization. We shall craft your deepest dreams and wishes as fine as this brew I drink.”

Two members of the Love Ink security task force carried in an enormous note pad. Not only was it bigger than Penwell herself, it was the biggest piece of paper May had ever seen. They placed it in front of Penwell, and the large paper shimmered with pink and purple, cortex-like swirls and curls.

“This pad, which was invented by Love Inkdustries,” Penwell said, turning to a fresh sheet of paper with a magical lift of her hand, “is called a “Mental Note. It records anything you want about you, your personality and your deepest thoughts and emotions.

Penwell placed her bottle on the desk. “Today, we dive right to your heart’s desires and wishes and imprint them on these dream sheets of paper.”

There was an unsettled clamor between the girls, many, like May, who were feeling a bit uncomfortable with imprinting their wishes in front of everyone. May’s stomach rumbled particularly loud, something that tended to happen when she was afraid…or got indigestion. Or both.

The noisy grumble caused Penwell’s wrinkled eyes to shift direction at May. “How about we have you…Maylene Cumberson?”

“Y-Y-you know my name?” May blubbered as everyone’s head turned to face her. “But how?”

Penwell tapped her nails together and walked to May’s magi-chair. “Of course, I’ve memorized all your names. You all have potential to be future authors, and I have a feeling that you, Maylene, are going to go far.

“Really?” May asked, her eyes shimmering behind her circular wire frame glasses.

“After I read your samples,” Penwell said, casting a wistful look on her face. “I thought, ‘Now this is a girl with a real flowery flair for fiery fantasy. How about you come up first?”

“Uh, bluh, uh,” May mumbled. Her indigestion was really kicking in. Even if May wasn’t sure she liked Penwell in person, she had no idea that Penwell thought so highly of her. Perhaps May was wrong about Penwell.

May timidly guided her magi-chair up to the Mental Note and froze. Everyone was looking at her. There was another loud grumble of protest from her stomach.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

Penwell placed a hand on May’s shoulder. It was oddly frigid. “Don’t be afraid to reveal your deepest desires to the world,” Penwell stated, with a contrasting gentle tone. “When you’re a published author, your greatest dreams will be standing naked for all the witches of the world to see.”

May’s cheeks turned green and she stared at the enormous notepad. “Okay, Ms. Penwell.”

“Now I want you to hold your hand to the paper,” Penwell said, leaning on the paper and intensely staring at May. May could practically feel her eyes searing through her head as she demanded May consent. “Now imagine your deepest maidenhood fantasy. Something that you’d dream about at two in the morning that makes you clutch your pillow so tightly.”

May’s hand trembled. Suddenly, she didn’t want to disappoint Ms. Penwell. Sure, she was mean, but this was a woman who had written all her favorite books, many which contributed to her deepest maidenhood. But at last, a picture started forming on the paper, a silvery image of herself and how she wanted to be soon. The image in her mind’s eye appeared before everyone. May strolled along the streets of Wormwood. Her hair was tied up in a bun, she wore a cross between a purple witch’s outfit and a pantsuit and as she checked herself in the reflection of her store, she pursued her thick lips and fluffed up her messy, but silky bun. Her nametag read, “Maylene Cumberson. CEO of Magic Mavens.”

Some of the girl’s giggled when they saw adult May strike that foxy pose, causing May’s face to blush profusely and her stomach to tie itself into knots. “Continue,” Penwell said sternly.

She strolled to a suburban house where the lawn gnomes and plastic flamingos all waved and bowed their heads. As she stepped into the doorway, one of the lawn gnomes tipped his hat and said in his tiny voice, “Ah yes, the woman of the house has arrived.”

May’s heels stepped into the doorway and was greeted by a handsome shirtless man who stood at an ironing board, ironing one of May’s work outfits. He had a hairy chest and mustache. As soon as she entered, May gave a sultry, “Hey there big boy.”

The girls all around May all burst into giggles, but the cauldron bubble really hit the fan, when the man said in a tiny voice, “Hey there…mummy.”

Adult Maylene gave a boisterous chortle as she held her hand to her mouth. “Now I get to be…mummy.”

Cruel laughter erupted around May and she started shake heavily. Feeling faint, she floated backwards in her magi-chair. “Come on, ease out your dreams,” Penwell pleaded with her, all while cracking up, “Ease it out. Ease it out…”

Tears filled May’s eyes and a loud gurgle silence the room. “I got diarrhea” she exclaimed, soaring off towards the closest door.

“That’ll do,” Penwell said, sounding somewhat content for once. “Go to the bathroom, May. Poshleen, you’re up next.”

With tear blind eyes, May slammed the door sobbing and whimpering. Not even Ashlan and those terrible Tessellation Twins managed to embarrass her as much as that. Was Penwell delighting in her humiliation? May didn’t care. She had to find the bathroom, or even better, the exit from this terrible place.

May sped down the hallway as fast as her magi-chair could carry her, sobbing deeply. She turned into the closest door possible, hoping it was a bathroom, but instead she encountered a sight she could hardly believe, let alone see. It was so utterly bizarre, her tears ceased almost immediately after witnessing it.