So this is how the curtain falls – ankles bound, arms chained, submerged in a tank full of water? Oblivious to my genuine plight, the inverted audience is riveted. I’d hear a pin drop if the sound could penetrate a fog of anticipation.
I’m the master of misdirection, a manipulator of the world’s greatest minds, but I’m nothing without my faithful assistant, Marco. He’s learnt every intricate detail of my act, to ensure that we amaze and bewilder in equal measure, including when to step into the wings while I receive the adulation I deserve. That is, it appears, until tonight.
Steve Campbell has short fiction in places such as Sick Lit Magazine, formercactus, Twisted Sister Lit Mag, Occulum, and MoonPark Review.