"The wicked witch is dead. She must have
suffocated to death."
"Well, that's that," said the Scarecrow. "She'll never scare or harm
anyone again."
"Why aren't we all shouting and dancing for joy?" said the Tin Woodman.
"We couldn't very well dance anyhow," said the Lion. "And I don't think
anyone feels like singing."
"I was hoping that we could change her," said Dorothy. "There'd be so
much more satisfaction in that, than seeing her dead. Now, wherever she
is, she's the same old wicked person."
"What do you mean, wherever she is?" said the Lion. "She's right there!
Look at her legs sticking out of the ground."
"No. I mean wherever her spirit is. You know that no one can really die."
"Oh, I see," said the Lion. "You mean, whichever level of spiritland
she's now in, it's probably not a happy one."
"Yes," said Dorothy. "She's had a chance to learn here. But she has
refused to learn. Now she'll be on a very low level with others of her
kind. There's very little likelihood of her advancing much unless
someone of a higher level is able to break through the barriers of her
negativity.
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