He broke the tip off
the chocolate kiss and crammed it into his mouth as Holly struggled through one
more page. He had been considering Angela's vague directions, so he thought he
knew what to do when Holly turned onto her side, clutching the open book, and
her eyes slid closed.
He got up and pressed
his hands to the image of Holly in the Wishing Ball. A slight buzzing grew in
his palms. A sensation of falling forward, into the Wishing Ball, enfolded him.
He sank through a thick, gelatinous substance that tingled against his skin,
through his clothes -- like diving headfirst into a vat of diet cherry cola. He
closed his eyes as lights burst all around him.
He stumbled. He
opened his eyes and stood on a forest path, dressed like someone in the Errol
Flynn version of Robin Hood. He chuckled and looked around, turning
slowly. The forest looked like the stylized period of Hollywood.
Holly raced down the
path toward him. She was dressed as one of the Merry Men, still plump, but
agile and full of life, with that delightful glow surrounding her. She grabbed
his hand as she raced past. "Run for your life!"
Maurice let her drag
him along. After all, it was her dream. She would know if they really needed to
run, wouldn't she?
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