Emerald City

“Look, you have the talent. You carried the shows in Wicked and Venus in Fur. All you need is your big break and dinner theater productions aren’t going to get you there. That’s all I’m saying, you need a little edge.”

Alicia had been Sarah’s roomie in college and was still her biggest fan.

“Diva is going to help get the spot in a big show you need to push your career,” she said.

The little green pill in her palm winked at Sarah, catching the light with its preternatural promise. Diva was the newest designer drug, the Magic Key to Unlocking Creativity that artists sought for centuries, without the harmful effects of alcohol or the reality distortion of psychedelics.

“This is your crossroads. The plane is your yellow brick road,” Alicia urged. “Here’s your ticket, the Quantas flight is in two hours. Go meet Hector Quezada in Sydney, I promise you he’ll offer to audition you.”


Sarah did land her audition, but so did sixty others at the same cattle call. Nearly all of them were on Diva.

For Sarah, Oz was a land where people went chasing dreams, only to crash on cheap imitations and empty promises.

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200 words. Inspired by this week’s Sunday Photo Fiction prompt: