The Illusionist

You see the poster, you buy the ticket and you go inside.

It's just smoke and mirrors.

The room seems to change decor each time you shift your gaze. At first it's a library, full of books - old and new, exciting and intriguing, then it's a playground, then a chess-board, then a playground again, with swings and carousels and a sandbox. Then it's a home; for a brief second, it's Heaven. and then it turns back into a chess board. And he's always there - guiding you, urging you on, trusting you to keep your cool.

It's just smoke and mirrors.

He wears a heart on each sleeve, and you can never tell for sure which one is his own, and which one he borrowed from a book on card tricks. He'll take your own and pull its strings and tear it to shreds, only to put it back together again. And when you think you're safe, that the show is over and you can go home, he'll tell you to "pick a card, any card".

It's just smoke and mirrors.

You pull a card out from the deck hoping with all your might that it's a simple 2 or 3, but when you flip it over, you're rendered stunned and speechless, because the card in your hand keeps morphing back and forth between the King of Hearts and the Red Joker, and your heart sinks and skips a beat with every transformation.

It's just smoke and mirrors.

Surely you could leave. But will you? Knowing that it's all smoke and mirrors is what keeps it safe, right? But that chill in the air is real. And so is the road you took to get here, which is what makes the illusion even more believable.

It's just smoke and mirrors.

And you are compelled to stick around till the end of the show, when the mirrors come down and the smoke clears and you get to see the man behind the mask.

Take care!