"A woman being never at a loss... the devil always sticks by them." –Lord Byron
Mirasal was finishing up the last of the glass ornaments. She could feel the weight of Robert's gaze pressing on her back the whole time. He eventually reaches over to where her radio sat in the adjoining chair in order to play with the dials. She'd switched it back on after it had, somehow, during their conversation been turned off. Robert had denied he'd done it. Perhaps it had a passing malfunction. It was certainly working fine now.
"Pacero, don't touch it!" she says as she spins around upon hearing the static sound of the stations skipping. It was always set to a specific one and she hated it being changed. So she left it as it was. His hand jerks back from the vintage item.
"Sorry, jeez." he replies, flipping the left lapel of his jacket as he straightens up.
"It's just, I like that station. I don't want it changed." she explains.
He gives an affirmative nod. "I understand." He sits back, twiddling his thumbs again, watching her resume her dusting. His smile this time is more tame. A little wilted.
Mirasal observes him a moment. Maybe she'd hurt his feelings?
Its apologized more to her now than Its ever apologized to anyone.
In fact, Its never apologized to anyone or anything. Ever. How this woman, this insignificant, mortal creature managed to pull that out of It is somewhat impressive.
But It was done with apologies.
Mirasal casts another look over her shoulder at him, her stomach still nauseous from the cleaning fluid smell. As well as a small throbbing spreading through her forehead. Between that and his staring, she was grateful to be done. Just as she was putting the last one in its elaborate holder trimmed with patterned gold, she turned around and his face was inches from hers.
"Let me show you a little trick."
She gasps as he plucked the crystal out of her hand. "Careful!" Her hands weave under his as he turned it around in his right palm.
"I am," he says frowning, a wrinkle forming above his nose ridge. He removes a silky red handkerchief from his left breast pocket with his left fingers. "Now watch this."
He drapes it around the crystal, passing his hand over the red material as he holds it. He swiftly yanks the handkerchief away; it's gone.
Mirasal's mouth is agape. "Where is it?" She peers down, inspecting his palm, eyes widening as she studied it. "Where did it go?"
She gives quick little looks around at their feet, as if expecting to see it turn up on the floor near them.
"I believe it's here." He snaps his fingers behind her left ear, presenting the small glass globe in front of her. She steadily reaches up to take it, a smile edging at the corners of her mouth.
"How did you do that?" She holds it, turning it around in her hands as if hoping to find the answer. "Are you someone who does illusions?" It was clearly a trick of the hand.
He smiles wide at her obvious delight. "You can say that. But I can't go revealing my tricks. Now, how about we get started?"
She nods, placing the crystal back in its holder on the shelf. "Yes, we should."
Where shall we go?" he inquires as he reaches down to take her by the hand, giving a baffled look as she pulls back, reaching instead for her radio.
"I have to take this to my room first, though." she says.
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
Mystery / Thriller"The Losers Club had driven It from the personal gaming reserve It had made. Now, it was time for It to make a new one. Just as It had to create a new physical form after Its other was destroyed by those hated ones. And It wants no more to feel. No...
