howling holocaust had devastated the old one. Dorothy stood up and found she was in her stocking feet. The Silver Shoes, her only tangible evidence of her fantastic adventure, had fallen off during her flight through the air and were lost forever. After taking only a few steps toward the house, she felt comfortably acclimated to her wonderfully mundane existence.

Aunt Em had just come out of the house to water the flowers when she looked up and saw Dorothy running toward her. “My darling child!” she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and effusively kissing every part of her face. “Where in the world were you?”

Aunt Em’s wan face suddenly began to regain its natural, robust color, and Dorothy stared into the maudlin eyes that sat at its center. How could she possibly explain her preternatural adventures? She knew she couldn’t. “In a faraway land,” she answered simply, tears of joy running down her cheeks. “And here is Toto, too. And oh, Aunt Em, there’s no place like home!”

THE END

copyright © 2003 Mark Phillips