Thursday, 2 SeptemberWoke up weightless and tickling with anticipation. Made a list of all things I&

Thursday, 2 September

Woke up weightless and tickling with anticipation. Made a list of all things I’ll buy on my millions:

A dress made of live flowers that I will change every hour,
Tonnes of super healthy chocolates on stevia with all sorts of super exclusive ingredients named like something taken from the elven cookbooks,
A magic pony with a misty mane that will poo with pure diamonds,
A ticket to Hollywood where I will star in a romantic thriller with Timothee Chalamet who will fall head over heels in love with me.. but die unnoticed,
Another pot for Tom so he will transplant himself there and stop hogging my masterpieces ❀✿❁

We pinned the poster to the school bulletin board and waited for the miracle to happen. But nothing happened. Nobody seemed to be into my handmade artwork. Two classes later, Gideon passed by and said, ‘Is it a toilet pot?’
Ugh, my schoolmates are such philistines!

‘We don’t care what you’ll put there as long as you pay us twenty pounds,’ Hecta snapped.
He gaggled like a troll. Nobody’s going to pay us a broken penny for that, he said.
Indeed, nobody even asked what the ornament I put there meant! And it means something great. I forgot what exactly, but great nonetheless. Hecta checked the online boards — no likes, no comments.

Walked home like three stinky loosers. Hanged out at Carmina’s and had a witch’s brew for dinner (her ma cooks ONLY something tasting like dead spiders). I started crossing out flower dresses from my dream-list when Madame Burana set her owl eyes at my pot and cried, ‘Look at that stupendous ancient cauldron! Where did you get it?’
I opened my mouth to proudly declare my authorship when Carma fired,
‘Ai, ma, that piece of trash? We bought it from the flea market for fifty pounds. For storing… pencils.’
‘A rarity like this? A trash? For pencils?’ she tsked. ‘Ignorant you bumkins, don’t you know that the ornament on it goes back to Queen Victoria times? You’re so lucky you got it THIS cheap.’
‘If you like it, you can have it,’ Hecta offered looking absolutely chillaxed.
And she gave us fifty-five pounds for my pot!

FIFTY. FIVE. POUNDS.