This was the week. The week of the time trials for the great broom race. All the witches in all the land had travelled to a small town to compete.
Lily, the wee witch, was adding ribbons to her broom. “I will have the prettiest broom. I shall surely win!” She spun around, holding her broom high above her head.
Her mother smiled, “It looks lovely sweetheart, but don’t you think your time would be better spent practicing? It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you working on your sprints and turns. The course always has magical surprises, and you have to be ready for anything.”
“Oh mom,” Lily brushed her off, “I won last year! I can easily do it again and I’ll look good doing it.”
Her mother shook her head.