The Man with the Thousand Names

“Since immemorial times the man has been aware of uncanny forces that surround him,” the presenter addressed the public cramming the theatre. “Forces imperceptible to the naked eye, but that nobody dares to refuse their existence—Magic!”—said raising his hand scenically—“It’s an honor for me to introduce to you the person whose name it’s synonymous of mystery.”

“My queue,” I muttered to myself standing behind the curtains at the backstage, making sure my bowtie was properly aligned.

The presenter stepped aside and waved his hand, “Please welcome, the magnificent Harvey and his fabulous magic show!!!”

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Hush Little Baby

He woke up sweat soaked. With the bone-chilling sensation of little fingers tighten around his throat. Mary, his girlfriend, slept placidly beside him. He cleared his throat and came out of bed straight to the bathroom.

The man in the mirror was haggard and not even the cold stream of water could refresh it. He rolled a towel and stuck it in the gap between the door and floor. He reached a pack of cigarettes taped below the sink, lighted one with his quivering hands and stood on tip toes to blow the smoke through the high window.

He felt guilty.

He was ashamed of himself.

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