Images Of Folks I Will Never Know

In which I tell you a little story before we go to bed.

My First Screen Credit

The Swamp Witch

Writing prompt: You’re given one word, and sixty seconds to write about it.
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WORD: DISTILLED
TIME: 90 Seconds (I didn’t set my buzzer correctly today…)
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The steam snaked its way up the corkscrew of glass that rose from the beaker, the vapor collecting in the iridescent loops. The mixture, though a lavender in the beaker, was a deep purple as it dripped slowly into the the clear glass bottle that he would cork to bring on his journey. The process seemed to take hours, but Jason sat patiently in the rickety wooden chair in the witch's hut.
"Some things are worth the wait." he thought to himself.
One of those was certainly a bottle of the most potent distilled nightmare in the valley, especially from the Swamp Witch herself.
"Someone" he said out loud to nobody "will be willing to trade."

60 Seconds on a One Word Topic: Stolen

It had never gone missing before, so its disappearance perplexed Marianne. In fact the reason it had never gone missing was that the key had never been used, it simply hung on the wall as a strange decoration. There were no skeleton key locks in her home, not as far back as she could remember. The idea that the key would be stolen, or that anybody would want to steal it made no sense to her.

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Image from The Graphics Fairy