ChromaticExplosion

One would think that using magic could easily complete the most mundane of tasks. But work? God, no. He had to do it himself. There was no charm or spell that could write out emails for you. Let alone anything more complicated than that. Soon enough, he left behind the world of the fantastical to focus on the fact that he had a job. He wanted to give you the world, and he couldn’t do that by falling down rabbit holes or indulging in nonsense. He’d been anxious all morning. Years had passed since he last returned to this place. But that couldn’t be why. His childhood home, a picturesque, two-story cottage surrounded by lush, overgrown gardens fostered some of his fondest memories. The problem was, he couldn’t get himself in the spirit to appreciate it. Buried underneath his things were stacks of papers he’d never finished. He was skeptical he could hide it—that he had days-worth of work to catch up on—on a trip you had both been planning for months. “Fuck me.” He hissed under his