Materialism grounds the good witch of the North
fiction
Edward w Pritchard
In my bubble I floated along. So happy. High above reality. Studying times past, ancestors and genealogy. Winds aloft gently pushed my opaque bubble North and South shimmering in the warm sunshine. Surveying my kingdom I drifted.
Slowly, slowly my bubble returned to earth. What caused it? Cause or effect? With a soft thud the bubble broke as it landed. The world new and promising became hostile again.
Materialism grounds the Good Witch of the North. To the poppy fields we go to recharge; sunken in our own chosen cocaine's.
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