Losing the Magick

I remember the last time Satan handed me a glass of ice water. It all started when I went out to get the mail and found my mailbox on fire. Although it happens from time to time, it is shocking none the less. After getting my mailbox put out, I find the singed red envelope. On the front it only says: To Jenny. I already know what's inside; however, I open it anyway, it's an invitation to one of Lucifer's dinner parties. Since he knows I always show up, there is no need to RSVP.

The moment I step on his front porch he swings open the door. He never says a word to me; he doesn't have to, because we can read each other like a book. I know he is looking over my attire, inspecting it. He seems to approve of my choice for the evening, for it is a red halter dress, knee length, with a scooping neck. He kisses my cheek as I walk through the door. He even holds my hand all the way to the table where he seats me between Gandhi and John F. Kennedy. Though they are interesting men, it is the Man in Black, brother of Jeordie White, who has captured my attention. He is right across the table from me; consequently, when we hold up our goblets of dragon blood wine, our eyes meet and hold a second to long.

Dinner seems to drag on, for on one side of me JFK tries to hold my attention with politics and on the other Gandhi tries with religion. Although I have been invited as Lucifer's concubine, all I want to do is talk to the Man in Black. Not only does he carry a sheaf of arrows but he also has a long samurai sword at his side. On his left arm he wears a gauntlet made of black leather with silver pyramid studs on it. Although his skin is pale, you can see the fatigued look in his eyes from travel. As I watch his long black hair shining in the light, Satan walks up and hands me a glass of ice water. Lucifer pays no attention to my wandering eyes.

After dinner I find myself sitting on a red velvet couch talking to the Man in Black. He is talking about the magic held in his gauntlet and how he uses it as his shield. He has been fighting demons in the outer-boundaries and he has come here tonight to find his replacement. At this point in the conversation he looks at me. Somehow I know what is coming as he hands me his sword and gauntlet, I am to replace him. I slip on the gauntlet; it fits perfectly as if made for me. My other hand finds the sword and starts swinging it as if I have been doing it my whole life. I can feel the magic that runs through the items I am holding and it starts to penetrate my veins.

My phone starts to ring. I wake up and look around my shoe box of an apartment with its 1970's ghetto fabulous wood paneled walls. At that moment I realize that magic no longer exist in this world. The fairytales of Merlin, pixies, and Rapunzel are lies. I can feel a part of myself die as this thought takes hold of my mind. I feel silly as a tear rolls down my cheek but I know deep down inside that this is a realization that would cripple the strongest of minds.