A Lost Magician

I was an adept young man, a magician I once was. I was famous across the country. I had a loving wife and son who was eight the last time I saw him.

The last time I saw my son was at my last show. The last thing I remembered was a blaze of red that covered my face. I was careful, but not careful enough. The accident shouldn't have had happened, and yet it did. I prepared for the cause but never the effect.

After my death I watched my son grow-up. He took after me, being a great trickster and all. My son was now eighteen, he's just as good as I once was. Until he found my monocle. That's when he began retracing my steps.

I never wanted this for him. My son found out my night job, and the truth behind my death. He was getting into something that shouldn't be touched again. I couldn't do anything, for I was dead. My son became what I once was. The job was dangerous even for myself; imagine how it is now with a high school student.

Why did I have to leave this world? How can I help my son? Now after my death I want to be by my sons side. I want to help him. Perhaps even stop him. I just want to close my eyes and open them to be back on the stage with my son assisting me. But that will never happen. So when I open up my eyes once again I want to see my son and hear him say, "Oh, Look the egg hatched." He'll pick me up and ask, "What should I call you little dove?" Because the best way to stay by my sons side is to become part of the act.


A little point of view of what happened Tochi.