FarFetchedFables No 143 Cyril Simsa and Lynette Meija
(Originally published at Daily Science Fiction.)
The magician wobbled a little on his bar stool.
"Ask me what I did for a living," he said. Somewhere deep inside of him a small voice was shouting to shut up, that he sounded like a fool, but he ignored it. His plane was likely delayed until morning, anyhow.
"I already know what you are," she answered. Her pale skin seemed to shimmer a little in the murky atmosphere of the bar. He liked the way the dim light played on her features, rendering half of her in shadow.
"And what is that?" His words were slurred. Was this his fourth whiskey, or his fifth?
"You're a magician," she said, as if it were obvious.
Lynette Meija writes science fiction, fantasy, and horror prose and poetry from the middle of a deep, dark forest in the wilds of southern Louisiana. Her work has been nominated for the Rhysling Award and the Million Writers Award. You can find her online at lynettemejia.com.
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