It slid down your throat until a quick jolt moved through your bones. When you woke up later on the floor, she peered over you, this woman with a fat nose and squinty eyes. She looked familiar, one of those nosey coworkers. What the hell was her name? Your throat was sore and your head pounded.
“Where am I? Where is my wife?” your voice sounded, puny, hoarse.
“You mean that sweet, little thing with the doll eyes? Well, she fell for one of my tricks! She drank from the wrong cup, my love, tsk-tsk, such a pity, really, the doll was gullible but nothing you can do now!” Her laughter was nauseating, sharp.
You gritted your teeth and wished you could punch her but you couldn’t move your arms.
“And, you thought I was just another “boring girl” at work behind the computer in my cubicle but ahh, I studied black magic at night. That golden elixir you drank at the bar made you see what I wanted you to see.”
Your lips were so damn dry now. You were thirsty and her voice kept droning on-on-on.
“Remember dear, my magic worked at happy hour. Wasn’t my glossy, blonde hair and cleavage stunning? Oh yes, you fell for it so fast, and now you're here at my feet.”
“Where is my damn wife? Where?” you were spitting now, groaning.
“Oh, that, well,” she sighed. “It’s such a shame the doll made a stupid choice. She’s gone. But everyone knows there are no real happy endings,” her laughter filled the tiny room, rising higher-higher-higher.
“Maybe it’s a terrible, black dream?” It’s just a pathetic dream,” you mumbled.
You forced your eyes shut again and slipped away into a sweaty, blurry sleep but the witch, she was still there, laughing.