Bubble Wizard

Going through my father's archives of old photos, I happened across some pics that rocked me to my very core. I had always thought myself as, well...special growing up.

Listen, I am not talking about the shining here. As a barely cognizant boy of 3, and in between the moments where I was fighting the primal urges to poop my butt, I was apparently able to tap into a force that was altogether magical:

I was a Bubble Wizard.

I have always had an affinity for lore based upon the plight of the powerful that are deemed weird or even deviants by society. Most super hero stories, wizarding tales, or even ghostbusting yarns have always been my shtick. What I hadn't realized until this day is that my subconscious attraction to these characters and stories are indicative of a deep seeded yearning for a time where I too was once powerful and different.

It started one summer day, when I was playing around with a stick that I had fashioned into a sword. What I didn't know was that this sword became not only catalyst, but a guiding wand to bring forth my latent abilities. Time stood still, and I created a single amorphous bubble with a wave of the wand. It scared the shit out of me.


My mother had to come into the yard with the hose to push the remnants of the diaper I destroyed over by the trashcan. Freshly changed, my child-prodigy mind worked fast to get down the forms and stances necessary to create more beautiful and powerful bubbles. With a flick of the wrist, I called forth what I immediately dubbed the "Tom and Jerry" spell-form: 2 bubbles, one big chasing a small one:


Having fully grasped the intricacies of Bubble-magic, I was ready to attempt my masterpiece. I was familiar with the the Disney film Fantasia, but I was always miffed that Mickey never dared to dream BIG enough. Any schmuck with a wand could animate a bunch of broomsticks, but it would take a real wizard to create a pantheon of bubbles to fill his yard. Completely lost in my art, I worked out a powerful stance to suit my ambition. The rest, as they say, was magic:



Winded, I took my usual PBJ lunch and retired to my napping room. I awoke to my parents arguing, and eventually my mother crying some nonsense about the "government will take him away from us."

I was taken to the doctor to get a "mole removed" from the top of my head, and after that it seems I lost the ability (but strangely, gained a hunger for Play-Doh). Not many can claim that they once wielded powers thought to be only controlled by deities like Poseidon or Neptune; I do give to credit my parents for the hard choice of giving me a normal life, rather than a life of being shunned and feared because I was different.

Mark my words though, Bubble Wizard WILL return; the world will taste his sudsy wrath.