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It's only a matter of time before the political promises pop

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In the run up to the election a crack team of magical elves are releasing pink bubbles filled with dreams.

The elves work in the Hope Factory and it’s a busy place. Surrounding a gleaming copper machine that looks like something from a Jules Verne novel is a small army of bearded men who pull levers and watch pressure gauges.

On the hour, every hour, a steam whistle toots and the newest bubble is released and on this occasion we all gather round in wonder to watch as it floats gently out of the factory window.

‘Life is wonderful,’ says one of the little bearded men who has paused to take a rest. ‘As I see it, life is an enormous puppy made out of comfort blankets and doe-eyed kittens and the politicians want to share some of that wonder with you.

‘We’re filling those balloons you can see up there with the hopes and dreams and aspirations of our politicians and we want the people to share in it. We want you to all live forever, we want millions of extra nurses and thousands of extra doctors, we want you to see your own GP at any time of day or night, we want  to build state of the art hospitals made of liquorice and we want you to drive magic cars that run on rainwater. We can make this happen. We can make this a better Britain, a Britain full of magic and wonderment, a Britain teeming with  promises that are never broken.’

The steam whistle blew again and another delightful gossamer bubble filled with hope was released, to the cheers of those below.

One day though, perhaps after the election, the air will drain of colour and one by one the little bubbles will come down from the sky. On the wet pavements, on the slick roof tops and on the silent chimney stacks of Britain, the bubbles will pop, leaving their fragile contents to die alone, in the rain. 

Dr Kevin Hinkley is a GP in Aberdeen

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