I Believe in Magic...

Writing Prompt: You have been transformed into a mystical being who has the ability to do magic. Share your new abilities in detail. How will you use your new skills?

"Do you even magic, bro?" 

I can't believe the guy actually said that. What kind of street magician challenges people walking by to do magic? Aren't we supposed to just watch and reluctantly drop a dollar or some loose change and a thank you? In my mind a magician is gentlemanly and maybe even a little mysterious, not aggressive or actively stupid-seeming. Whatever, his magic is horrible anyway, he actually just did that thing where you turn sideways and lift one leg to fake levitate. No dollar for you. 

"I said, BRO, DO. YOU. EVEN. MAGIC?" He said it again directly at me despite the actual crowd of people he managed to stop. These people, by the way, are all throughly entertained by his sub-party-clown magic. 

"No, jackass, no I do not magic. Neither do you." Says, I. 

Self-chuckling about how witty I was to say, jackass, the way I did, I am distracted momentarily from the fact that the crowd of people is really not happy with my remark. Really not happy. I hear yelling and feel a shove from behind with such force there is no time to break my fall. I fall face first in to his wooden tip box and gradually loose consciousness right there on the street. 

Waking up on the street I have no memory of who I am. I have no wallet, no cell phone and no significant idea of where I am. There are people surrounding me and they are laughing. Their eyes are bugging out and some can't contain a genuine look of astonishment as they look in my direction. I am literally just standing on a street corner. Every time I attempt to navigate the street a child bursts with laughter and runs in my direction and every step I take is marked with a group gasp as if I were on a high wire. Panic stricken I ask a simple question to the crowd and it comes across as a hilarious joke. All the people simply repeat in unison exactly what I said to them. "Can YOU tell me where I am? No, YOU stop it. Who are YOU?" The last question puts the crowd in a complete fit of laughter. 

Even though I have no frame of reference for who I am or what is going on I know beyond a doubt that something wrong is happening. When I look down all I can remember of my hands, feet, body and clothing seem normal to me but the outside world has a strange red-tinted glow. I can't seem to escape the attention of people on the street so I wander in to a local library. When I enter the library I notice the red-tinted glow of the street is no longer and the people in the library are about their business paying no attention to me. 

I ask the Librarian awkwardly if there is anything strange about me that she notices or anything weird going on outside but she shrugs and helps the next person in line. Without thinking I stick my hands in my pockets and pull out a dozen roses and give them to her. The filing clerk next to her grimaces with fear as he is allergic to flowers of all sorts and begins to sneeze. I reach in to my coat pocket and produce an endless stream of handkerchiefs of all colors all tied end to end. Feeling very odd about the encounters I can find no other way to console myself than to pull a couple of quarters from behind the ears of a couple kids standing to my left to buy a can of seltzer water. 

A gentleman with a strong mustache makes a beeline for me as I sit in the library lounge with my soda water and expresses how impressed he was with my magic. It hits me like a ton of bricks. Do you even magic, bro? The street magician's voice echoes in my mind over and over again. I was there! I remember what happened to me! I know who I am! As I stumble out to the street in the eerie red glow the crowds approach once again laughing and pointing just as before. The mustached man followed me out but maintained his calm demeanor; he is clearly not caught up in whatever this crowd is enjoying.  

I say the only thing I feel will release me from this strange state of being to the only person who I know will understand me, the mustached man. Do you even magic, bro? He frowns. 

"Surely I do not, in fact I was quite impressed by your magic but now I find you quite odd." He said. 

"DO YOU EVEN MAGIC, BRO??" I scream at the top of my lungs. 

"NO and GOOD DAY sir." says the mustached man who is already being accosted by the crowd. They knock him to the floor and all I see is a light red haze lift from my eyes. 

I realize I am standing in the same place I was before this mystical journey ever happened but this time the magician has a mustache. I drop him a dollar from my wallet and wish him well. I walk to the side of the street to hail a cab and produce a tiny horn from my pocket. *Honk, honk*

Here comes a cab- it works every time.