Where the Tubes End

The soda fountain sputtered and coughed a half-hearted stream into my cup. "Out of syrup?" I asked the attendant.

She frowned. "It's sick again." She turned over her shoulder and called, "Hey, Louie! Get the cattle prod and the tranquilizers!"

I chuckled dutifully - she was kind of cute, under the paper hat - but she didn't even crack a smile. Behind her, a grim-faced man donned a leather coat and pushed open a door marked "Employees Only." From the darkness beyond, I heard the rustle of scales and the wheeze of labored breath.

"I'll just take a bottled water," I said.

The Gaze of the Crowd

A 200-worder today, but I couldn't resist the challenge laid out by the fine ladies at Pendragon Variety. Here it is: a story about a healer named Fabio. Enjoy!

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Elsie gasped on the pavement. She saw the car speed around the corner and disappear, a hit and run.

"Rest easy," said a soft voice by her ear. Warm hands cradled her and wiped away the pain. She opened her eyes. She'd know that face anywhere, familiar from hundreds of romance covers.

"Fabio!?"

"Shh." His hands were glowing blue and, where they touched, her cuts healed before her eyes.

"I don't understand..." she said.

"It is my duty as a sacred Healer. Shush now. I must work quickly, before anyone else arrives."

"But how can you do... that? Do magic?" Elsie found it hard to do anything other than relax into his touch. It was so soothing.

"There are not many of us," said Fabio. "Myself, Paris, Jamie Lynn, for a while. The adoration of the masses brings power, but most dilute it and divert it into other skills and talents. Only those of us who have pure fame can truly channel this energy."

Abruptly, Fabio's head snapped up.

"I must go. They have found me again."

"Who?" cried Elsie, almost weeping as his touch left her.

"Paparazzi."

Elsie heard a sound like the howling of wolves in the distance.

Magic Lesson

"Restraint is important," said Pembrose. "You're smarter than to try something truly blatant, I know, but you're too clever by half. You'll think it can't hurt to try a little something, knowing everyone will assume it was prestidigitation. This you must not do. Always prepare a secret, a trick to explain it away."

"But why?" asked Cherie. "Why not actually use our power?"

Pembrose stroked his mustache. "Why can we do magic, apprentice?"

"We're wizards. Wise ones. We know the secrets."

"Wrong!" Pembrose snapped. "They believe even though they know it is not true. That is why the magic works."