Streets
These streets,
Glitter in the dark
Don't sleep,
Red eyes, sunken and stark
Dream deep,
In her arms, where you are safe
These streets,
Never sleep, still they never wake.
" Tonight, one night only! Orlud the Illusionist!"
The lone figure stared at the flyer pasted on the brick wall. It was nearly dusk. Shadowy tendrils of night had begun to overtake the suns rays. He wondered how long that poster had been on the wall now. Weeks? Years? Time seemed so irrelevant now. The years passed by without any meaning. No use hiding anymore. There wasn't anything left to hide anyway.
Those days were over now.
The figure in the advertisement had on a mysterious smile, a knowing smile, one that kept a secret away from the rest of the world. Memory flooded the man in the black cloak. His last show. The last performance before...
No.
He would not think of that now.
But it was too late. Years of suppressed memories crashed his mind, seeping into his conscious thought.
The heat from the stage lights. The audience. A shadow, morphing on the floor.
Cards.
All fifty-two of them scattered everywhere.
Darkness. And then...
Nothing.
Nothing at all.
Nothing but time.
Time to think.
Time to reflect.
Time to heal.
But there would be no healing. Not for him. Fifty-two cards, all falling, falling into an endless void of nothing, spiraling slowly downward until the darkness overtook them at last. He looked back at the poster. The white blond hair and light skin stood out in stark contrast to the dark background as the figure held out his hand, offering the viewer to pick a card.
Any card.
Whatever card you like...
It didn't matter. He would always know which card you chose. After all, he did hold all the cards. Or at least, he thought he did. But of course he didn't. Fate knew all the tricks of the trade.
So here he was. Again. Back home, standing in a dirty alleyway, staring at a flyer that was who knows how old. He wondered how it had survived on that wall for so long. He plucked the poster from the wall, tracing the letters with his fingers.
"Orlud the Illusionist," he murmured.
So long ago...
He dropped the poster and turned, walking away. Behind him, the wing swept the advertisement away, into the darkness waiting in the back of the alley.
Fifty-two cards...
The world passed by. Couples and children walked heedlessly past the man in the black coat as though he didn't exist, hurrying home before night enclosed them in its compressing blanket. He wasn't worried though. Darkness had taken its toll on his heart long ago. The night was no longer a prison, but an escape. No more pain. No more memories...
He shook his head, trying to clear it.
Memories...
He pressed on, passing shop after shop, one after another. A silent shadow, moving along a lonely road, leaving nothing but dust in its wake. He was at the edge of the city now. Boarded up stores, old movie theaters, and ancient restaurants adorned the sidewalks. An old, run-down cafe.
He stopped.
The Mystic Cafe. He had performed here. Petty card tricks for petty money. He sighed.
So very long ago...
He began to move on when a man stumbled into him.
" Hey, watch it," the man slurred. He had obviously just paid a visit to the local bar.
" Hey, got any loose change there, mister?" He was tipping side to side slightly.
Luxord reached into his pocket and pulled out a few spare coins. He didn't need them any way. Not anymore.
"Hey thanks sir. Here," and he shoved something into his hand. Luxord didn't even look at it. He watched the man stumble away. Then he turned over the object in his hand.
His eyes widened.
"The Ace of Hearts..."
Night claimed the land as the last remnants of light were eclipsed by the horizon.
I like Luxord. He's cool. ;)