Totally Not Sleight-of-Hand

He kept looking at me with those golden brown eyes of his, just watching me with such intensity and intrigue. His eyebrow kept going up and down in a pattern as if he’s trying to give me some kind of signal. Even though I’m looking straight at his, my mind is off wandering someplace else, stuck on his previous attempt on trying to wow me with his “special talent.”

I looked back down on the small, round table in front of us, glancing at the deck of card spread out across the surface. Out of the entire fifty-two deck, only one card is face-up: the queen of hearts. I shuffled that deck at least four times, each time using a different method, I thought to myself. He even turned away while I picked the card, and shuffled it. There has to be some kind of strange prank going on, but I can’t figure it out.

“Well, missy,” Eric began with a cocky tone, “you figured out how I did that?”

I kept my eyes glued to the card just for a moment longer before letting out a sigh, shaking my head, and putting on a small smile, “I don’t know how the hell you did it. But yes, that’s my card.”

Eric laughed, probably at me finally letting down my wall of stubbornness. Ever since I was a kid, I never really believed in the whole idea of magic and magicians. As I grew older, I saw a bunch of different tricks being debunked before my eyes, thus only furthering my disbelief. However, all of those times in the past, I was never the participant in a person’s display of “magic.” In this case, being asked out on a date by a so-called magician was the perfect chance to experience it with my own eyes.

Watching him do his tricked spurred up a small interest in seeing what else he could do. I lean back in my seat, a shoulder propped on the back to keep me balanced. “Alright, Mister Magician Man. What else can you do to convince me that magic is real and not just a bunch of sleight of hand stuff?”

Still cocky, Eric chuckled and leaned forward on the table, eyeing me as if I challenged him, “Oh, I have a lot more I can show you. But, I’ll convince you using one of my favorite talents.”

“And what would that be?”

“I can get your wallet without leaving my seat.”

How could that even be possible, I questioned in my head. My wallet is all the way inside my jean pocket, and we’re sitting on opposite ends of the table.

Subcoiously, I slid my hand into my pocket just to make sure my wallet was where it should be. And it was. Pressed against my thigh in my jeans. I gave Eric a smug-ass smile and said, “Try me.”

Eric readied himself by sitting up in his seat and adjusting the small black tie around the collar of his shirt. Informing me that this next trick would require my help, he took off his dark blue blazer and placed it on top of the table.

He gave me a few instructions as he began the trick, “What I want you to do is think about your wallet. When you have a clear image of it in your mind, I want you to reach into one of my jacket sleeves and feel around for something.”

“That’s it? Seems simple enough.”

There’s no way he could possibly convince me that magic exists. He’s just toying with me to make me look stupid.

Looking directly at Eric, just to make sure he doesn’t try to slip under the table, I put a clear visual in my head about my wallet; it’s a plain, light blue open wallet with a small chain attached around one of the flaps. Without telling him what it looks like, I followed his instructions and reached into one of the sleeves of his blazer and felt around.

At first, all I could feel was the sleek, silk lining of the heavy jacket, cool to the touch no matter how long he had it on. As I went further up the sleeve I started to feel a collection of tiny metal links forming a chain. I froze.

No, this is just a trick. He made me think about my wallet beforehand. My mind is just playing with me, making me think that I actually feel it in the sleeve. I shook my head and continued. With my free hand, I put it over my pocket just to make sure my wallet was still there.

But there was no bulge. Nothing was pressing against my thigh.


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— via Daily Prompt: Sleeve

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