Wednesday, August 31, 2016

Empty



I walked next to her
through the door and down
the long hallway that led
to the pub her
and I
frequented.

Next to the entrance was a man in
a suit shuffling a deck of bicycle
playing cards behind an old, worn,
wooden stand with the words “Magic”
inked in what must have once been
bright stylized red lettering long
since faded.

A small crowd, maybe half
a dozen people, were standing in
front of him watching.
She stopped to see upon hearing
their collective small gasp of
incredulity, a sweeping
murmur of disbelief and awe.

He put the cards beneath the stand
and pulled out two glasses. Empty,
they stood there in silence as 
she, I, and the crowd waited.

He picked up one glass and poured
its nothing into the other, which
slowly filled with wine as he did.
He then took the now full glass and
poured its wine back into the empty
first. And again both
glasses were empty.

The crowd clapped as she and I
stood at the back in silence.

She continued to the bar
and sat down. So did I. 
Next to each other like
two glasses.

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