The Questioner

How does she do that? The question burrowed itself into my brain, insect, pestilence, obsession. Watching her hands explained nothing, studying careful twisting fingers caress cards teasingly. What secret? Maybe something hidden behind their last, final flourish? Three of clubs metamorphoses, becomes diamond-studded Jack?

Questions are sickness, influenza, common cold, spread sickly breath to mouth until I am diseased, feverish, desperately seeking answers. WHY?! Could be, perhaps, problematic. Not healthy, goodness, no.

Fear. Does it always end this way? Magician Girl’s wide frozen eyes on Father’s knife. Bloody violence - should have told. A trick is easily deconstructed. Like bodies.