by Bob Thurber
After the show my mother took me backstage to meet her new fiance Walter the magician (aka The Amazing Wally) who was packing props into a trunk.
"I have to use the girl's room," mother said. I studied Walter's eyes as he watched her strut on her heels, clip-clopping like a racehorse. When she was out of sight he asked how I liked the show.
"It was okay."
"Just okay?"
"I don't believe in magic," I said.
"Ah," he said, "a sceptic. I see."
He took a white dove out of a cage, wrapped it in a black handkerchief.
"Clap you hands."
I clapped my hands.
"Good. But do it slow. Like you're applauding in slow motion."
I clapped my hands together very gently. Walter opened the handkerchief, and there was a white rose! He handed me the flower.
"I won't let you turn yourself into my father," I said.
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