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.
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 lab coat—you have to picture something with a bit more flair, a lot more mess, and way 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 exactly like baking cookies. It’s more like trying to bake cookies in 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.
That brings me to Batch No. 1…
Batch No. 1 - Ah, my first attempt. Ambitious, to say the least. I was aiming for something rich and indulgent—a romantic treat, you know? I thought, “Who doesn’t love dark chocolate?” So I whipped up some chocolate squares, tossed in a bit of guar extract (because, why not?), and waited for the magic to happen. Spoiler alert: it didn’t. Turns out, too much guar extract doesn’t lead to romance—it leads straight to the bathroom. Yup, my would-be Casanovas were too busy running to fall in love. But hey, I licensed the recipe. Still cashing in on that one!
Batch No. 2 - I went for something bold—garlic and paprika. The smell was divine! But instead of inspiring passion, it made everyone smell like a Sunday roast. The less said about this one, the better.
Batch No. 3 - You’d think I’d learn after Batch #1, but no. I tried to tweak the formula, and somehow I managed to make it worse. If Batch #1 was a laxative, Batch #3 was… well, let’s just say it was explosive. I don’t know how, but I multiplied the effect by 100. Sorry, Hezekiah. And Tobar. And Bavol. Those poor guys. To this day, they still avoid anything I offer them that isn’t clearly labeled.
Batch No. 4 - Okay, so now I was determined. Less focus on digestion, more on love. This time I thought, “Why not try something calming?” So I added lavender. It’s soothing, right? Helps you sleep, makes you relax—figured it would mellow everyone out, open them up to a little romance. Well, I didn’t account for my dog, Chavula, getting into the mix. He lapped up a few drops when I wasn’t looking and spent the next few hours licking himself like a maniac. Note: Chavula’s fine now, and the hair’s grown back.
Batch No. 5 - Ah, the West Coast—where everyone was buzzing about a new plant. People were blending it into smoothies, baking it into brownies, and praising its many “health benefits.” The bitterness was a challenge, though. After days of effort, I finally realized…I was spending way too much time trying to make kale palatable. You wackos can keep my smoothie recipe!
Batch No. 6 - North Carolina. Two months there, and I thought I’d hit the jackpot. This guy named Popcorn—yes, Popcorn—taught me how to make moonshine. Apparently, it’s just whiskey without the patience, which I can get behind. Popcorn helped me brew some strong stuff—100% proof, no less. We had a blast, but a gypsy like me can’t be hauling around all that distilling equipment. Popcorn still sends me a case now and again. I just use a little for a kick in my potions. Who knew a bit of moonshine could get people feeling real friendly?
Batch No. 7 - O, Dumnezeule! Things were starting to get interesting now. By this point, my regulars were very cautious. They showed up in clothes that were easy to wash—smart. Now, here’s a word you don’t hear every day in a gypsy camp: vasodilation. The guys loved it, but the womenfolk? They were not impressed. Back to the cauldron.
Batch No. 8 - This one had promise—or so I thought. I’d finally gotten my confidence back, and the usual test subjects were starting to trust me again. This time, I expanded the group to include the ladies from my book club. Everything seemed great during the day, but come nightfall, as they walked home through the forest, something…magical happened. Their skin started glowing. And not in a radiant, “you look amazing” way, but in a creepy, pale-witch kind of way. Their moaning and bellyaching about on the walk home sure did raise some eyebrows with the locals.
Batch No. 9 - Un câştigat! Finally, after all those misfires, I struck gold. And no, I can’t give away the details—trade secrets and all that—but let’s just say it involves a fair amount of [redacted] and more than a hint of [redacted] for sweetness. This was the breakthrough I needed. The rest, as they say, is history.
Oh, and by the way, yes, I really do have a gold tooth. If you stop by the store, there’s no kitchen sink involved. I’ve got bottles already made up. First taste is free… if you’re good-looking.
Music to read by: Love Potion No. 9 by The Clovers
Backstory
I feel like I’ve been playing around with this idea for too long. Like since 2017. And, truly, Ruza and her many trials probably fit better in the work of
or ’s fictional rock & roll series. But, here it is.I put it in the Sketchbook because I think there’s more to mine from the story but some words just need to be placed in a row and sent packing.
Enjoy!
-j.
Were you able to eliminate that kissing the cop side effect of #9?
I'm sold, but before placing my order, I thought I'd ask -- Is there any age requirement or limitation on potential users for this stuff? And can you provide overnight delivery? Asking for a friend.