Thursday, January 30, 2014

The Last Vaudeville Magician

Another 100 word story.

This one is very late, for that I apologize.  I've just been lying in bed due to some bad food that I ate while I was celebrating a friend's graduation from nursing school.  Had to call out sick until I felt better, and stopped spewing out solid food.  When he heard about it he dropped off a few books for me to read while I recuperated.  Got to read Fables volume 1 & 2, and finish off Y: The Last Man (fantastic).  I have a soft spot for graphic novels.

Finished up my "The Metamorphosis and Other Stories" as well, will be picking up where I left off on "Do Androids Dream of Electric Sleep."  Just filling my mind with good old books and stories as much as I can.

Actually just finished a documentary "Deceptive Practice: The Mysteries and Mentors of Ricky Jay," fantastic to watch when you're too sick to get up and write.  I honestly believe that Magicians and Writers try to do the same thing for their audience:  to create an illusion while making them feel it's all real.  One of the reasons I've been watching it over and over again on Tuesday (while rolling around in bed waiting for the pain to stop).


*picture is originally from

01/27/2014 (Monday)- The Last Vaudeville Magician

               It was a most peculiar funeral that the priest had officiated: there were midgets, giants, and fae-folk in black.

               Further behind them were fortunetellers wiping tears with tarot cards, ghastly women in bizarre pointy hats attended by mangy black cats, and white-bearded men dressed in star-and-moon covered robes. 

               The priest was given instructions and a belonging of the deceased.

               His last request. 

               At the end of the eulogy, the priest broke the wand.

               Tossed them into the grave with the tarot cards, pointy hats, and black mangy cats.

               He turned to find himself alone, turned to find the magic gone.