2018 Writing Contest
First Place Winner: Fairy Tale
Willomeana the Witch
by Randy Duffy
Once upon a time there was a little witch named
Willomeana. Her name had the word “mean” in it,
but she wasn’t mean at all. She was a kind, gentle
witch who only did magic spells for good things.
This confused her mom and dad who had once
changed a king into a frog. Willomeana saw this
frog once in a pond and thought that one day she
would change him back into a king. All she had to
do was get the secret spell from her dad.
She was a young witch as witches’ ages go and
was soon to have her two hundredth birthday.
All she wanted for her birthday was a broom to fly
on. She had never flown on a broom before and
this would be her first broom ever.
Finally, it was her special day. She sat down
at the table and saw a beautiful birthday cake
in front of her. It was a purple cake with red
dripping down the side. On top, stuck into the
icing, were bat wings.
“Thank you so much,” she said. “It’s a
beautiful cake. I love bat wings. They’ll taste real
good mixed with cake icing.”
Then it was time to open her birthday present.
Her dad handed her a long package neatly
wrapped in spider webs. A huge spider climbed
out of the web and scampered away as she took
the package to open it.
“Wow!” she cried out. “It’s just what I wanted. A
real witch’s flying broom.”
“Yes, after two hundred years, it’s time you
learned how to fly on a broom. It’s all yours.
All you have to do is go outside and say the
magic spell:
Broom, broom, I ride you tonight.
36 | arta.net
Rise to the sky in magic flight.
Across the full moon and into night’s sky,
Go, broom, go! Fly, fly, fly.”
Willomeana went outside, hopped on the
broom, and said the magic spell. Then — nothing!
Nothing happened! She said the spell again.
Nothing! The broom wasn’t moving. It was as still
as a kitchen broom with no magic in it.
She went back into the house. Her long, sad,
green witch’s face greeted her dad. She was crying
and a few red witch’s tears rolled down her face.
“It doesn’t work, Dad,” she said. “What am I
doing wrong?”
Then her mom interrupted. “Where did you get
that broom?” she asked her husband.
“It’s my old one. I got a new one, so I decided to
give her my old one,” said Dad.
“How old is it?” her mom asked.
“Oh, about a thousand years,” he answered.
“That’s too old. I’ll give her my spare broom.
It’s only two hundred years old,” Mom said.
“Thanks, Mom. Will you say the magic spell to
awaken it.”
“Yes, I will, Willomeana. Here goes:
Broom, broom, to you I tell,
For many years I rode you well.
But now my daughter wants to feel the sky
Awaken yourself, so she can fly.”
The broom started to tremble and shake.
Willomeana quickly jumped on, grabbed the
handle, and zoom, she was gone. Up into the
night sky. Across the face of the moon. Flying
like a newborn bird on its first flight. She pulled
up the handle and went higher, pushed down