Love Potions No. 1-8

Come on in, meet Ruza

Stories in the Tiny Worlds Sketchbook are like a pencil sketch with words; loose, unrefined and not wholly a thing. But I like them and think there’s something here you might like, too.

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Photo by Jan Ranft on Unsplash

Egad… Ruth?

The Clovers—nice guys, but not very smart.

Boys, it’s Ruza, roll your r’s and let that zed have some bite.

Now that the internet is a thing and the statute of limitations on my story has lapsed, I can tell you this: I invented Love Potion No. 9. Yeah, that’s right. And before you ask—no, it wasn’t in some dingy little lab. I mean, I wasn’t wearing a white coat—you have to picture something with a bit more flair, a lot more mess, and fewer safety protocols.

You see, love has always fascinated me. Maybe it’s my gypsy roots—Romania, born and raised—where everything is a little more… magical. People everywhere are always looking for shortcuts to romance, a sprinkle of magic to get things moving. So, I thought, why not give them a little push? I set out to make a potion that could unlock hearts, stoke passions, or at least make people more willing to hold hands without breaking into a cold sweat.

But here’s the thing—making a love potion isn’t like baking cookies. It’s more like trying to assemble a croquembouche on a houseboat while being chased by a lynx. A lot of improvisation, a lot of swearing, and mostly, a lot of mistakes.

Of course, if you know anything about gypsy culture, we don’t exactly do paperwork. Recipes are passed down by word of mouth, and everyone adds their own twist—throw in a new location and the whole thing goes pear-shaped faster than you can say “nimble fingers nurture the noxious nightshade”.

In Romania, where I’m from, you can find what you need with a bit of patience and a sharp knife. Eye of newt? Not hard if you only need a couple, but move to Philly—where the Puritans, literally, stomped the hell out of this place with their witch-hunting boots—and suddenly, you’re between the hammer and the anvil. Newts are scarce, and let me tell you, mustard seed does not cut it in the magic department, no matter what the cookbooks say.

Let me get a cup of tea and I’ll tell you the whole story…