I found it at a garage sale. Someone was getting rid of their family heirlooms. Not jewels or ancient scrolls or photo albums from bygone eras. Just cookware and cutlery, end tables, mismatched dining sets, and the like. I was supposed to be looking for something specific and practical. A desk. But something else caught my eye. It looked exactly as I would imagine a witch’s pot would look like. Coal-black cast iron. Bulging, maybe three or four quarts big, with three stubby feet and a handle. I paid five dollars for it.