'Mr. Houdini Makes An Appearance' by Tim Warren

 

“Mr. Houdini, it seems you are charged with… making the Tower of London disappear?”

“A misunderstanding, your Honour.”

“A misunderstanding?”

“Quite so. All that has momentarily changed is that no-one is able to see it.”

“Nonetheless, this would have been your doing?”

“Yes and no.”

“Please expand on — at the very least — the ‘yes’ part.”

“Very well, your Honour. Over the years, I have amassed a certain amount of… credibility, let’s say — perhaps more than anyone in the history of my profession. People can be very suggestible.”

“If I am understanding you correctly, Mr. Houdini, it is your contention that you merely told people it was no longer there and they just believed you?”

“Well, not ‘merely’. That would be very reductive. A certain context was created; a degree of showmanship. It was not without skill.”

“So you admit responsibility?”

“Yes and no.”

“I refer you to my previous request.”

“To expand?”

“If you would… No! God, man! Not like that. Kindly return to your normal dimensions before I hold you in contempt.”

“Very well. Is this more to your liking?”

“Hm… yes. Are you sure you’re not a little shorter now?”

“Quite certain. But you see how tricky perception can be?”
“Fine, fine. But there is a world of magnitude between this… discrepancy and the present matter.”

“I agree, your Honour.”

“You do?”
“Quite so. As tricks go, the last was a mere bagatelle.”

“Mr Houdini, enough. I will not be sidetracked. Now let us return to the charges…”

“Is there a problem?”

“Did you—”

“I’m sure I don’t know to what your Honour is referring.”

 

***

 

ANOTHER TRIUMPH: HOUDINI MAKES CHARGES VANISH

Tower reveal show a sell-out after court case collapses. Demand now growing for third performance, at Houses of Parliament, though public remain divided on its potential reappearance.

'Ignored' by Babs Kirby

Lexi actually wanted to be ignored, yet she’d dyed her hair bright red, which was giving out a completely contradictory message. Whenever anyone seemed to notice her – and she was very conspicuous – she felt intruded upon.

The commuter scrum was unpleasant and unfamiliar to Lexi. One chap, in particular, seemed to be taking a special interest in her. She moved down the carriage, much to the annoyance of those around her. Her day was not going well.

At Euston, Lexi caught a mainline train and noticed that the man from the tube was sitting nearby. Was this a bizarre coincidence?

When he got off the train at her stop, alarm bells rang. Lexi was pretty feisty, not a scared mouse of a person.

‘Are you following me?’ Lexi asked. ‘And if so, why?’

He looked flustered. He hadn’t anticipated this. He spluttered, ‘Well …yes…I am.’

Lexi was quite taken aback by this response, as she’d expected him to deny it.

‘So, are you a stalker?’ she ventured.

‘I live opposite you, and ever since you moved in, I’ve been kind of watching you.’

‘Why be so weird, you’ve really unnerved me’.

‘I dunno, I’m shy I suppose. I didn’t mean to follow you today, but I just got curious.’

‘What’s your name? I’m Lexi by the way.’

‘I know. I’m Jamie. I’ve honestly never done this kind of thing before.’

‘Should I be flattered?’

‘Can I take you for a coffee?,’ asked Jamie, feeling brave.

‘Well no, I’m already running late, but this is my number, call me – and stop following me.’

And with that Lexi headed off.

Lexi was pleased with how she’d handled it and Jamie seemed genuine enough. Not someone to be scared of. Lexi didn’t frighten easily. But clearly her cloak of invisibility was flawed.

'Ignored' by Katy Ward

 He kept silently repeating an extract from a novel he'd read the previous night as he drifted off to sleep. Cold and alone. 

“There is something demoralizing about watching two people get more and more crazy about each other, especially when you are the only extra person in the room."

 He already felt like an angsty teenage cliché so why not immerse himself in The Bell Jar? 

Today, standing next to Dan and Jenna, it felt like the book could have been written about his own life.

 

Not that the group of women in the sushi bar at the other side of the food court would have had a clue Dan and Jenna were crazy about each other. 

They seemed aloof, bored even, as though they were discussing whose turn it was to empty the dish washer. Would it feel so anti-climactic when, if, he ever found someone? 

Dan had bragged that he'd slept with Jenna the previous night. It had been a first for both of them. He’d told her “I love you” amidst the awkward fumbling and meant it. 

Of course, Dan hadn't asked where his best friend had spent the previous night or how things were with his parents. 

He was suddenly distracted by a speck of mud on the toe of his left trainer. He'd managed to scrub himself up pretty well after a night sleeping under a tree in the city centre’s main park, but he'd clearly missed a spot.

 “It's like watching Paris from an express caboose heading in the opposite direction –every second the city gets smaller and smaller, only you feel it's really you getting smaller and smaller and lonelier and lonelier.”

'Chickens and a Tilting Axis' by Stella Turner

            

Do chickens have lips? That was all that was typed on a sheet of paper, left lying on the seat of the train. What a stupid question! Chickens have beaks, never liked birds of any description because they peck. Feeding ducks always held me in dread, children offering up stale bread. I imagined torn digits and blood squirting out big time, mothers fainting and fathers beating off the predators.

I open up my lap top and type in the three words. Varieties of fowl appear and a detailed description of beaks and a positive no to lips. One definition is an indirect way of saying no like is the pope catholic or do camels cross deserts are for yes.

I look up scanning the faces of my usual companions. Creatures of habit we all seem to want to sit in the same seats at the same table. Miserable Mike who always scowls, Arty Farty Pamela reading the galley leaflets with a dreamy expression all over her pale face and Gorgeous Greg who seems to be asleep the entire journey and miraculously wakes up seconds before his stop. Made up names of course we’ve never spoken to each other. Wonder what they call me Aloof Adele or Efficient Elaine? I pride myself on my sharp business suits, severe hair style and designer briefcase.

I watch her read the note. Will it start a conversation? She’s so beautiful but has eyes only for the bloke that sleeps all the time. He has perfect symmetry. Girls appreciate that. Thought I might invite her to the Chicken Festival. No chickens just great music, great food and great company. Start of the Summer Equinox, the earth’s axis tilting like she tilting mine. Would it hurt to start a conversation with her? Do Chickens have lips?