I am a Dragon

I am a dragon who loves rainbows
My flame is a burnt orange sunset
My wings help me soar above the shadows
Through the water-coloured day - not done yet

I am an archer shooting arrows
They're not poisoned but they are sharp
My aim is to poke holes in the shadows
My hope is to reach someone's heart

I am a clown who juggles memories
I'm not good at catching them all
My foolish head suffers brain-freeze
If there's a point, I can't recall

I am a poet who is lost for words
An actor who has lost the play
A singer who is lost in music
And a woman who has lost her way.

Gone the words
Gone the memories
Gone the arrows
Gone the flame.

- Donna Holmes, April 29, 2012.

Big Fat Moments

Big fat droplets of rain drench the street outside the cafe
And my umbrella's at the office.
Pre-teens waiting in the movie line yell "hooray!"
And I sit waiting for something to happen.

Why just wait you ask?
Sometimes, I don't.
Often I make my world move and shake
But sometimes you can only wait.

Big fat moments of potential continue passing by
I'm staying dry sipping tea at my table
The crowd has left the lobby making room for the music
And I sit waiting for something to happen

I'm waiting to happen
Sometimes, I don't
But the world will continue to move and shake
And sometimes you can only wait

Big fat lies in the newspaper make me angry
I'm staying sane by reading the comics
After the cryptoquote spree, I need more tea
While I keep waiting for something to happen.

Why do I wait?
Maybe I won't
Maybe I'll make my world start its move and its shake
Or maybe just sit here and continue to wait.

The Routine Kindness of Strangers

This is something of mine the Grapevine (a little Wolfville publication) printed a couple of Chrismtases ago (out of season I know... oh well.)  I just ran across it again today and thought I'd share it here.  I'd also like to reiterate here that the world is NOT falling apart.  The media only shows us the crappy stuff going on...but good people do great things every day.   WE make this world what it is - are you so bad?  I don't think so.  And I'd just like to say thanks for being pretty great and thanks to all those strangers who have helped me over the years including the following examples...

My (very old and used) car has broken down three Christmases in a row now.  Three years ago the exhaust rusted off.  A nearby garage opened up on Boxing Day - just for me - to wire it up temporarily and then wouldn’t take any money for their work.  Two years ago, on Christmas morning, I was almost run off the highway by a passing car heading in my direction! I avoided the oncoming car, but popped the clutch in the process.  I stood there by my car, about to cry, when a sweet British couple stopped to help.  They’d just moved to Nova Scotia.  One of them let me use the cell phone (that she’d just received that morning) and they drove an hour out of their way to take me to my sister’s house.   Last year,  it was pouring rain on Christmas morning – remember that?    Well, it turns out that old cars like mine, with questionable spark plugs, don’t like the rain.  The car stalled in Kentville just as I turned up Chester Ave - on my annual trek to the South Shore.  I DID cry this time.  Another very nice man actually stopped and tapped on my window to see if I was ok.  He helped me move the car off the road and drove me to a friend’s place where I could use the phone.   Then the friend actually lent me her car for that entire holiday so I could get to my family for Christmas.  In my experience, people are....well they’re just fabulous.  I have been helped by so many strangers over the years – including the time I ran out of gas in Coldbrook and that man drove me to & from the gas station, and the time I locked my keys in the car and that delivery guy used a curtain rod to open my door, and the time that sweet little couple helped me out when I ran out of gas on Belcher street, and the time that nice old man changed my tire in Bridgetown, and...  well, you get the picture.   I am so thankful I live in such an incredible area – a place where many of us have come to rely on the, almost routine, kindness of strangers.    :o)  

Daisy's Dreams

I wrote this little "dream" last fall just after the Deep Roots Music festival.  It is based on a TRUE story.   ;O)

Daisy's Dreams

It was dark, as usual.  Daisy always found her time in the big, dark box peaceful and full of dreamy rainbow fantasies or quiet contemplative moments.  She never got bored – didn’t really know the meaning of the word.  She just knew she was happy to be in a safe dry place. 

There was a jiggle. The safe, dry box was moving.  Perhaps the Maker was just shifting around the storage site as she was often want to do.  Suddenly, Daisy felt a major jolt to one side, then a mighty jiggle back, and then a strange lifting sensation – much like one feels when riding in that other kind of box, the metal one that moves things and people up and down to different floors.  What was that called again?  Telephone?  Elephant? Ah yes!  Elevator!  But she knew she wasn’t in an elevator now.  It felt more familiar than that.  Her safe dry home began vibrating and there was the feeling of acceleration – the regular little jumps and jiggles of Daisy’s well-packed surroundings informed her that she was in a fast-moving machine.  Cup?  Cat?  Car!  “Right.” she thought to herself, “We’re in a car.  We must be going to a festival!”

Oh how exciting!  Daisy just loved festivals.  As much as she loved dreaming in her safe, dry box, she loved participating in festivals even more.  The car’s motion lulled her imaginary mind and, for awhile, she slid into a dozy dream of cheer and magic.

Time passed.  The sudden absence of motion woke her up.  After a few more bumps and jiggles and jolts and a final THUD, the moment that the box dweller had been dreaming of, blazed into reality.  There was so much light, and there, THERE was the Maker smiling down at her.

“Hello Daisy” said the Maker, “Ready to face the world again?”  

Daisy just smiled.  She always smiled.  That was how her face had been painted.  Her perpetual smile made her happy.   Hmmm… or was it the other way around?  Perhaps her happiness made her perpetually smile.  No matter, she just knew, in her wooden-pole soul, that facing the world with her smiling face was a very happy occasion indeed.    

The Maker reached into the box and brought Daisy into the light and placed her on a table.  At that angle, Daisy was just able to see the Maker pull out the rest of her body from the safe, dry box. 

“Here comes the fun part” Daisy thought to herself.  The Maker arranged Daisy’s body – a 5-foot pole draped in a pretty pink and white dress – and stood it against a wall.  Then the Maker lifted Daisy’s large head from the table and placed it on top of the pole.  “There now” Daisy thought.  She was her 7-foot Giant Puppet self once more.

Daisy was a special Giant Puppet.  The older giants required three humans to manipulate them, but Daisy only needed one.  And the best part was that the Maker was often her one human!  Daisy leaned against the wall and waited as the Maker and her helpers assembled the other Giant Puppets.  There was Leroy and Sam and Alice and….oh!  The Jester was with them today as well.  How grand!  Daisy smiled her paper-maché grin at her large friends spaced out along the perimeter of the room.  They smiled back as a fantasy continued to unfold before them.  Soon there were brightly coloured scarves, butterfly wings, beautiful bird masks, and other magical props and glittering costumes strewn around the large room in the chaotic order that only the Maker fully understood.  There were big people and little people helping or learning from the Maker.  No, not little people.  Hmmmm… Chug boats? Chickens?  What was that word again?

“Dennis!” the Maker called out “Could you help that group of children with those butterfly wings?”

Children!  That’s what those little beings were called.  Daisy watched the children laugh and try on costumes and practice flying. 

“Watch out!” cried Dennis.  He quickly shooed his group of butterflies out of the way as the Jester lurched forward alarmingly fast. 

“Easy now” soothed the Maker to the Jester’s humans.  “Hold the pole up straight” she told one and “wave that arm more slowly” she said to another.  The Maker taught the humans how to move the Jester with the majesty that befitted his station.  The Jester was the first of this Giant Puppet community and the Maker made sure his humans treated him with the respect that garnered him.  The Jester gave a slow regal wave to Daisy and she knew that everything would be ok.  She smiled back. 

“It’s almost time to start” boomed a big man wearing an orange vest.  “Time to line up!”

“A parade!”  Daisy concluded.  “We’re getting ready for a parade!  Oh how very VERY grand!”

“Ready Daisy?” asked the Maker.  Daisy smiled.  The Maker fastened Daisy’s pole harness around her shoulders and waist then pulled down Daisy’s pretty pink & white dress all around her.  The Maker was completely hidden under Daisy’s pretty dress. The dress was made of special lace that allowed the Maker to see the world through Daisy’s tummy.  Daisy wanted to giggle in delight she was so excited.

“Here we go” boomed the man in the orange vest.

The big doors were opened and the multi-hued group of puppets and humans emerged out towards the bright sunny day.  The Maker bent low to get through the door without bumping Daisy’s head.  The Maker moved forward so Daisy moved forward.  Daisy and the Maker liked to walk at the back of the parade so they could see everyone in front of them and also watch for straggling butterflies.  A riot of colour and laughter danced down the street before them.  The butterflies with graceful flowing wings joined bright beautiful fish, sparkling birds, and other charming creatures as they all fluttered, swam, flapped, and mingled their way through the town.  There were people of all shapes and sizes wearing gleaming costumes of silver and gold and purple and red.  There were drummers and dancers and even a friendly little dog wearing a rainbow collar.  And interspersed throughout, were the stately Giant Puppets waving to the cheering crowds that had gathered along the roadside. 

The parade passed by the Farmers’ Market and the Giants could hear entrancing music coming from the stage.  The Maker began to dance, so Daisy began to dance.  The Maker twirled, so Daisy twirled.  Sam and Alice clapped their large hands in time to the music and Leroy did a giant jig.  The Jester moved majestically through the crowd and Daisy smiled and smiled. 

Eventually it was time to go back.  The swirling mass of puppets and people, almost floating on the joy they had created, drifted back towards the big building where it all began.  The Giant Puppets all bent low to get back into the door.   The humans, big and small, took off their bright costume pieces and began to pack the bits of enchantment away. 

The Maker unharnessed herself from Daisy and came out from under the pretty pink & white dress.  “Now wasn’t that fun” said the Maker to Daisy.  Daisy couldn’t wipe the smile off her face, she was so happy.  Happy and tired - what a big day it had been.  The Maker reached up and carefully removed Daisy’s head from her pole and placed it on the table once again.  As the humans packed away the other puppets and costumes, Daisy quietly watched the Maker carefully prepare Daisy’s storage box - placing her pole, dress, and large hands inside.  Finally the Maker lifted Daisy’s head from the table and laid it in the cozy darkness.  

“Great job today Daisy” whispered the Maker. “Sleep well my friend”.

“Good work.” thought Daisy sleepily.  No, that wasn’t it.  “Good news?”  She was so tired she didn’t think she would remember… wait!  “Good NIGHT” she thought with a drowsy smile.  The Maker grinned down at the large smiling face and placed the lid back on the storage crate.  The puppet welcomed the dark and fell back into a relaxed meditation of the magic, colours, wishes, and things that made up the stuff of Daisy’s dreams.

- Written by Donna Holmes, Sept 27, 2010.

Riding on Perspective

One of our writing group's exercises included writing the same experience from two different perspectives.  Here's what I came up with...  

Riding on Perspective

HER

She leaned forward in eager anticipation for the wild ride ahead.  The little car that they were safely strapped into took them slowly up, up, up the clicking track giving her time to admire the magnificent view that slowly revealed itself the higher they climbed.  “This is the bees knees”, she thought to herself.  “This is the cat’s meow, the cow’s moo, and the grasshoppers’ elbows all in one!”   She squeezed the hand of the man beside her – too breathless with excitement to be able to comment aloud on how much fun she knew they were about to have.  She felt the pressure of his hand in return signifying agreement.  She glanced at his profile and noted his raised eyebrows and grinning mouth.  He was as excited as she was.  She laughed out loud as the coaster topped the first hill.  She let go of his hand so she could raise both her arms in the air and thrill in the moment of their companionship, her beating heart, and the ride!

HIM

“Don’t throw up, don’t throw up” he thought to himself as they began to climb the mountain of… of… TERROR.  He squeezed his eyes shut to close out the dizzying heights that the devil ride was taking them to then quickly opened them again.  Ack! That was far worse.   His crazed imagination had instantly flashed to him all the many gruesome ways one could die on a rollercoaster during the two seconds that his eyes had been shut. Gah!! How could he have let himself be talked into taking this ride into insanity and beyond.  What had possessed him to partake in this potentially painful and preposterous parade towards purgatory??  He felt a movement beside him and almost screamed aloud in horrible fright until he realized it was just Her taking hold of his hand.  “Poor thing.  She must be even more terrified than I am.”  The thought helped to steady him. His eyes might be the size of scared saucers, and his mouth frozen in a freakishly fearful grimace but the thought of being strong for Her helped calm him enough to believe he could possibly endure this hell-ride without losing his lunch.   He heard her laugh....wait, LAUGH?  Suddenly there was no more time for thinking, or fear, or hand holdin... “eeeeeaaaarrrrRRRGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Alex in Wonderland

Synopsis

Alex is a rather lost-looking guy who's fallen into a hole and can't get up. Wonderland is the world into which he fell and the place where he just might finally "find" himself.

Excerpt

Alex fell and fell and fell and fell and screamed and fell. After a while he stopped screaming and began noticing the world that he was passing by. It seemed strange and wonderful and terrifying and… he was STILL falling. He opened his mouth again to scream but decided that that would just be a waste of breath. The strange world seemed to whiz UP quickly as he continued DOWN. Eventually he realized that his fall was slowing. How that was possible…how any of this was possible, he had no idea but at least he was no longer crazed with terror. Now he was just puzzled and, actually, becoming a little bored. His fall slowed and slowed until he seemed more to be floating than falling and then after quite another long while, he stopped moving altogether and simply hung/floated in the middle of the strange seemingly never-ending hole.

“Great” he thought to himself “Now what?” He looked more closely at the walls in front of which he hovered. For as far up or down as he could see, they were covered in pictures – beautiful landscapes surrounded by elaborate gold frames. Rustic pastoral scenes, deep dark forests, fantastical cityscapes, inviting beach palaces, and many other lovely painted scenes were spread out over the walls. There were also little shelves dotted in and around the pictures. On the shelves sat the most varied and curious array of knickknacks that one could imagine. One shelf had only orange things on it. Another held a variety of what appeared to be ceramic animals. They all had long noses like an elephant….but Alex could see that there weren’t actually any elephants there. Some had 10 legs, some had more than one trunk and all were painted in a rainbow of colours that he had never seen on any mammal, let alone any elephant. One of the larger beasts was pointing it’s trunk up and to the right. Alex’s eye followed the line of the trunk to a picture hanging just there. It was a little smaller than most of the others. Alex found if he flapped his arms, he could maneuver himself a little closer to the wall. He was mesmerized by the small painting. This landscape was heavily forested and populated with incredibly intricate trees. Each leaf on each delicate branch was painted in an explosion of delicious colour. On the forest floor there grew flowers and mushrooms and toad stools and every enchanting thing Alex had ever heard of. He found he wanted to BE in that scene. He wanted to breathe that forest’s air, he wanted to see that world’s sky, he wanted…..

“Arrrrrgggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!” Suddenly Alex was falling again. But this time, he was falling into the picture that he’d been staring at! It was a much shorter fall this time and it ended on a pile of wildly coloured leaves and with a mild thud.

The Wonderful Land of Oooze

As I've mentioned previously, I'm part of a writing group that meets in Wolfville, NS twice a month.  We usually have some kind of theme to write around each month and October's theme was Horror.  More specifically, we were to use a well-known scene from a movie (any genre but horror) and turn it into a Horror scene.  I immediately thought of "The Wizard of Oz" and chose to  desecrate... I mean disseminate the scene that takes place in Munchkin Land just after the tornado has landed Dorothy's house there.    Be warned, it is not a pretty story...

The Wonderful Land of Oooooze

“Toto, I’ve a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore” Dorothy whispered in a terrified voice.  Toto just whimpered and huddled down further in the basket that Dorothy was carrying.  The tornado had landed them in a dark and scary place. There was no colour – everything seemed painted in chronometric tones.   Dorothy looked down and noted that the blue in her gingham dress had turned grey - along with her skin and hair and blouse.  Toto was still a black dog, but now he was cringing in a grey basket.  Everything was made up of shades of black and white and grey…. everything except for the strange new shoes Dorothy now had on.  During the tornado, Toto and Dorothy had been thrown around the house so much that her old black shoes had flown right off her feet and out the open window into the storm.   When everything had stopped and the house had… landed… Dorothy had opened her front door and entered this weird land of oooze in her stocking feet.  

And it truly was a land of ooze.  It was a dark and dank mire of a place. Strange sounds emanated from the surrounding black and grey landscape.  Was that laughter she kept hearing from time to time?  It was almost child-like in timbre, yet menacing and foreboding the way a nursery rhyme is used to make a Horror movie scene feel even more terrifying.   Dorothy clutched her basket closer and continued forward through the mist and muck - almost reverently thankful for the bright red shoes she now wore and which she and Toto had found upon exiting the house.

Without warning a voice screamed out “Please, pleeeeeeaaase don’t hurt me”.  Dorothy gasped and fell back a step.  She had been so concentrated on trying to decipher where the creepy laughter was coming from that she failed to notice a dark, pathetic shape lying in a heap on the path and had almost trod on the unfortunate creature before its startling plea stopped her.  

“I won’t hurt you” Dorothy soothed.   But the, the - Dorothy had to concede at this point that the creature was a woman, or at least looked woman-shaped – the “woman” continued to moan in a piteous wail that began rising in tone.  Toto stuck his head out of the basket and began to howl in empathy.   “Oh come on!” Dorothy stamped her foot.  “Now stop being so silly.  I said I won’t hurt you!”

Toto paused in mid howl and the pathetic woman stopped and stared.  She was dressed in a long black dress that looked like it might once have been fine silk but was now little more than filthy tatters.  An old dented, but probably once pointy, hat sat haphazardly on her head.  Her skin was a dark grey and her features were quite regular looking except for the long hooked nose in the middle of her face.  She looked up at Dorothy through a veil of tears “You – you’re not going to hurt me?” she sniffed.

Toto cocked his head on the side, gave the hag a penetrating look then hopped out of the basket, trotted over and gave her hand a lick.  Then he barked a friendly “yap” and ran back to his basket - tail wagging.  “No of course not” replied Dorothy.  “And Toto seems to like you!  Any friend of his is a friend of mine”.  With that she reached out a hand and helped the bedraggled hag up.  “We haven’t been properly introduced.  I’m Dorothy Gale from Kanas.”  She bobbed a little curtsy. 

The hag inclined her head “I am Elphaba, from the Western lands”.  

“How do you do.”  Dorothy smiled then looked around “So, what is this place?”

“Don’t you know??”  asked Elphaba.  “Why, you’re in Munchkin land – one of the foulest areas in the land of Ooooze.  My sister and I were flying over it as quickly as we could in hopes of avoiding ‘Her-who-should-not-be-named’ when that terrible storm dumped me here.  I have no idea what happened to my sister…”

“Her-who-should-not…” began Dorothy but she was interrupted by a “Heeheehee” laugh coming from the surrounding darkness again in young high-pitched voices.

“Arrggggghhhh” screamed the hag.  “They’re coming, that means SHE’S COMING… nooooooooooooooooooo! I’m too weak to face her again so soon.  Please NOOOOOOO!”

Startled, Dorothy grabbed at Elphaba’s hands.  “What is it? Who is coming? What are you screaming about now” screamed Dorothy back.  Toto leaped from his precariously swaying basket and ran around their feet yapping wilding and adding his voice to the rising panic in general.

The eerie laughter grew louder and louder and then just as suddenly – stopped.  Elphaba and Dorothy froze in fear and Toto huddled by Dorothy’s red shoes.   “Munchkins” Elphaba whispered. 

And then there they were.  Where there had been dark mist and black mire only moments before, now stood a crowd of short but terrifying creatures.  They had misshapen heads and horribly deformed bodies.  Their pointy teeth gleamed in the shards of moonlight that pierced the lifting fog.  Toto gave a little whimper and Dorothy realized that they were completely surrounded by the wretched things.   The Munchkins, armed with black candy spears that were sweet but deadly, closed in on the terrified trio.  “Oooh” piped up one in a high voice “what delicacies do we have here?” 

“I’m sure herself won’t mind if we just have a little nibble” squeaked another.

“That one looks especially tasty” agreed a third “and her little dog too”.   The three munchkins laughed as Dorothy moved to protect Toto but then she was forced back in surprise when a glowing bubble of light appeared between her and the giggling creatures.

Glinda, Witch of the North, waved her wand and the giant bubble disappeared as quickly as it came.  She wore an icy white gown.  She was chillingly beautiful but her voice left one cold to the core when she spoke.  “So” she said freezingly to the closest munchkins “you mean to take a nibble of MY prize do you?”  The Munchkins stopped grinning and faded back into the mist – all except for the three who had spoken.  They stood frozen looking fearfully up at the white witch.  “Flotsom” her voiced changed and now seemed warmly inviting “you wouldn’t let these two imbeciles nibble my prize now would you?”

Elphaba nudged Dorothy “that is her power… she uses the magic of her voice to turn people against each other.  We must get away quickly before she can turn her voice on us!”  

By this time Glinda had convinced the three unfortunate munchkins that they were dire enemies.  They began attacking each other.   Dorothy shuddered and gagged as body parts drenched in black blood began to fly.

“Hurry, we must find a way to…” Elphaba was cut off by a voice now silky with cold honey

“You wouldn’t want to deprive me of your lovely company Elphaba my dear, now would you?”  Glinda’s laugh tinkled like the sound of falling ice daggers.  

“Stop!” shouted Elphaba, “I won’t let you bewitch me with your foul voice”

Glinda’s  smile widened.  She moved closer to Elphaba.  She opened her mouth to speak but was stopped by an unexpected source.  Toto had moved into her path.  “Toto no!  Come back!!” cried Dorothy

Glinda bent down to the little dog and Toto started growling.  The witch of the North chuckled and directed her spell-laden words towards him instead.   “Oh look at you!” she cooed and began stroking his fur “What a darling creature.  Aren’t you just the cutest thing.  There now you adorable little being, you’ll be my friend won’t you?”

Toto tilted his head confused then started wagging his tale

“Toto no!” cried Dorothy again

“You’ll protect me now, won’t you my wonderful little furry darling…”  Glinda smiled down into his eyes then looked up sharply at the approaching farm girl.  “SIC HER” she commanded the little dog.

Toto immediately turned his body and growled menacingly at Dorothy…

“No, Toto, no”…. he ignored this and moved threateningly towards the girl, fangs bared.  Dorothy backed up but a tree stopped her progress.  She lifted her basket trying to shield herself behind it.  

“He’s a little flea-ridden monster” Glinda’s sharp words pierced through Dorothy’s fear.  “Use the basket, defend yourself from this furry little fiend”.  

Instant rage took over the girl in gingham.  Elphaba tried saying something to her but Dorothy ignored her.  She faced the little dog. He growled and leaped for her throat but she grasped her basket with all her strength and slashed it at toto’s head.   Toto was flung across the dark clearing and slammed against another tree.  There was a sudden painful little yip then Toto fell in a little pile of puppy at the base of the trunk.  

Glinda laughed evilly and Dorothy was immediately released by the spell.  “Nooooooo!” she screamed and ran to the little dog’s side.  “Toto, dear toto, be ok, please be ok, I didn’t mean it, I didn’t MEAN it!!”  She began sobbing over the broken little figure and Glinda turned her attention to Elphaba. 

“That was evil, even for you Glinda” Elphaba spit out.   “But I’m not such an easy target; you know we are able to resist your wicked voice”

Glinda contemplated the crying girl, noting the ruby shoes, then turned to grin at Elphaba.  “Yes but you’re not a ‘we’ anymore are you? What happened to your sister Elphaba”

“There was a storm, we got separated”

Glinda replied quietly but clearly “or someone killed her”

“She is beloved in this land, why would anyone try to kill my sister?”  Elphaba looked at Glinda in consternation “What would make you even think such a thing?”

“Ah, but you are with someone who is not of this land aren’t you?”

“Don’t even try it Glinda” but Elphaba glanced at Dorothy uncertainly and then back at the white witch. “You’re trying to trick me”

“Ah but this time I think I actually have the truth of the matter in hand….”  She frowned abruptly and pointed at Dorothy “This girl is responsible for the death of your sister.”

Elphaba backed further.  “No… stop trying to twist my thoughts… your spell can’t work on me”

“Oh but this time I don’t need the spell do I?  This time I have the truth to do my work for me”

Elphaba twirled round to face the sobbing girl “Dorothy, speak up for yourself…  did you….”

The flow of Dorothy’s tears began to abate and the conversation around her was finally penetrating her sadly clouded thoughts.  She looked up at Elphaba.  Her eyes took in the woman’s dress then moved down to look at the black and white striped socks that she wore.  Dorothy HAD seen socks like that earlier in the evening hadn’t she?  Another sob escaped her as she thought of Toto still alive and happy – trotting cheerfully out of the old house that had been flown to this awful place.  She could see Toto wagging his tale as he sniffed around the base of the house and at the black and white clad legs that he found protruding there…. Black and white striped socks ending in the bright ruby coloured shoes….

Dorothy gasped at the memory and suddenly Elphaba knew the truth.  “No” pleaded Dorothy “It was the tornado”.  Elphaba picked up one of the blood-soaked spears left by the decimated Munchkins. “It wasn’t my fault” Dorothy sobbed “and my shoes were gone”.   Elphaba moved grimly towards the farm girl with murder in her heart.  “Stop!” cried Dorothy  “I….they…. they weren’t being used any more… I needed….  It’s not my fault…. no.... NO!!!"

Glinda, Witch of the North cackled delightedly as Dorothy began to scream. 

The End.