I Have No Idea Where My Blockbuster Card Went

I am a failure.

Although I have dedicated my life to the pursuit of Illusion, my union dues are well, due.

I’m just going to give my union card back. I am not going to say it wasn’t for a lack of trying, because I obviously ain’t trying no more. But as Epictetus wrote: the uneducated person blames others, the partially educated person blames themselves, and an educated person blames no one, but instead seeks a solution.

My illusions, well I just couldn’t get them off the ground. In deference to Epictetus, I will spare you the litany of excuses.

‘The great conversation, leads to the brilliant framework, in pursuit of the grand endeavor.’ All now merely words that will never be defined. Not by me, anyway. I have no stake, perhaps to my shame. But life is not to be solved, simply lived.

Infrequently, and in natural settings, I think that instead of an illusionist playing the mimic game with crows, I should have been a ranger. Recently, as I sat and thought of that, I challenged myself to learn a new spell. One probably attributed to the druids, but is certainly much older.  

To pass without a trace.

Thank you for the opportunity and support,

Viscotti



The man looked up from the handwritten note, which smelled of burnt sugar. “Hmmmm, weird.”

He dropped the note on the ground, and scratched his face.

The woman seated in the room with him responded, “Yeah.”

She rummaged about in a pile in the seat next to her, “Had these cards with it. This one says Seven Hills Road School of Illusion Wage Earner, and the other is a Blockbuster card.”

 

 

 

Please find the minor olfactory illusion above, read by me below!  The words are always my own.

(As a note to myself, this sketch came out of the very same exercise as the day previous, which was to use the humor of Twain, and to reverse time.  Who truly knows what emerges from the fires of creation?)

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