Curing Jars Novels & Stories

What he found in the jar made him stunned. The jel kind of liquid inside the jar turned completely transparent now. That would only happen if the fermentation process is fully completed. What more, he can also see something sparkling inside the liquid, indicating that the medicine is in its prime and it can be used now. If this medicine is fermented to this level, it can heal anything inside the human body.

I gave him a nod as I raked my mind for questions just to veer the topic away. "So, what is this new project you're working on?" "It's supposed to bring clues of the virus and its origins. Our lab has developed a technology that will send doctors to an incubated space to get samples of the virus and examine it from the past so we would finally understand its roots and therefore find a cure." He answered. Did he just say past? How in the world does that work? I shifted in my seat, I'm beginning to feel very uncomfortable. "Excuse me, did you say 'past'? As in like from yesterday's?" I said. I must have looked so dumb since he chuckled.

She went closer by to have a clear look of it, followed by them, “Come! Look closer! Do you see that there are seeds in them?, that’s probably the bean seeds that they preserved for themselves.” They could see bottle jars over there on the dusty broken shelves, few of the jars were filled with some sand, and others were broken carrying some worn out seeds particles. Two of them were still closed and the seeds were preserved in them up to some extent. The bottle jars of some thick glass and the design of it were way too iconic, one would appreciate the aesthetic sense of them. There was a note stick at the side of everything, telling a brief story about them. A story of how they get to be her

The old stone walls, smooth from hundreds of years of touch, glowed in the warm light of the braziers. Copper pipes ran across the ceiling like the veins of a giant machine, dripping with water from the cold air outside. On the benches, rows of glass bottles and jars stood in perfect order some new and shining, made with modern precision, others old and handmade, their glass warped with tiny ripples that caught light. Dr. Rafael stood at the center table, sleeves rolled up. The smell of sterile metal mixed with the sharp tongue of herbs and solvents. Across from him, Amara tied her hair back, laying out bundles of dried leaves, wrapped roots, and sealed jars of dark liquid.

A small glass jar sat directly on the clean counter. It had not been there this afternoon. Aurora stepped closer. The jar was sealed tightly with a metal lid. It contained something submerged in thick, golden oil. She picked up the small glass container. She twisted the metal lid until it popped open. She brought the open jar to her nose. The scent hit her instantly. It was sharp, bright, and incredibly complex. It was a fermented, salty citrus aroma that completely bypassed her logical brain and struck her directly in the chest.

The counters were covered in large jars, full of oats and pasta, lentils and other dried beans, as well as two spice racks stood either side of the hob which were stacked with similar jars that were much smaller, and filled with assorted colourful herbs and spices. The wide windowsill was teeming with greenery in growing pots; I could see the words parsley and sage and coriander stuck onto the three plants closest to me, scribbled on scraps of paper and taped onto their pots. I pulled a couple of glasses out of the cupboard and considered them as I ran the tap. “Hey,” I said as I returned outside, carefully carrying two full glasses. “You don’t think your family would happen to have a spare