“Magic.” That was what the media labeled the new energy source. Gregory supposed that made him a sorcerer, since he was the first to use it. No one else had the nerve.
It was the future. It would replace electricity—and change the world.
He entered the workshop and touched the glowing stone that contained the “magic.” It filled him. Power. Warmth. Energy. He embraced it and fell into its depths. The workshop and the crowd outside vanished.
It called to him and embraced him. It was all there was.
It was all he needed.
It was all that mattered.
Author’s Note: I was thinking about magic, and I imagined that it could be so addictive, the people who tried to use it would never be able to think about anything else.