improvidence

As you walk down Centre st. passing Canal in the late hours of the evening, you hear a faint murmur from the shadows. To you, it sounds almost like a lullaby. As you approach the deepest corner, you can start to make out words.

Pick a card. Pick a card. Any card. Pick a card.

Who could it be? You begin to shiver from suspense.

Pick a card. Pick a card. Any card. Pick a card.

He’s there. Clad in darkness. Only visible because of the playing cards cutting through the air. His hands are moving as swift as the phorid-humpbacked fly of the tropics. He doesn’t stop for a second.

It must be him.

Dragon Master USA. Man of legend.

He is said to dance like one from the streets. Create lifelike pictures using only pencils and paper – or crayons, chalk, markers, canvas, or paint. He can toss a slinky with such grace and specificity that it becomes a ballet. Known to change character with such believability and speed – he’s the iguana, wait, no, chameleon of humans.

You slowly approach him. He acknowledges your presence and beckons you to pick a card.

Your choice is wrong. But of course it is. You can’t fool the Dragon Master. He’s always one step ahead. He thinks on his feet with the quickness and efficiency of the Google Search Engine.

You throw your erroneous choice on the ground and stomp on it in frustration!

ew. eww. ewwww. EWW. EWWWWWW. EWWWWWWWWWWW. He licks the card, then places it back in the deck.

With a wink he adjusts his helmet and hops on to his motorcycle and into the night.

And that was the last time you ever saw him.