Yesteryear Fiction

Mr. Wizard
By Fred Marias


The man who lives at the corner of hope and shame will tell you any day of the week that he is a wizard. He can do things, bring the sun or the rain with a whisper of fingers, a touch of tongue.

“Magic isn’t about the rituals, the words, the tools,” he says. “It’s about belief, intent.” I smile, nod. The man chuckles, looks away.

“When you are ready, you will see through the persistent illusion.” He says. “You will see that you can do anything you put your mind to because you, your mind, all of this– you are everything.”


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