(partly inspired by this go look it’s pretty)
It’s 6:55 on a Wednesday evening and despite any plans you might have had for the night, you find yourself standing outside an auditorium looking at the poster for a magic show.
John Crocker is a magician, not of the wizardly variety that you write about between classes, but the sort to do tricks at a child’s birthday party. You think that’s about all illusionists of his kind are known for nowadays, anyway; he may have become famous a few decades ago, dazzling crowds with fantastic illusions on stages and black and white TV, but the world has moved on to science and technology and left Mr. Crocker’s magic act a quaint novelty, as far as the population at wide is concerned.
Nevertheless, the theater has a good-sized audience present, you note as you walk in. Perhaps it’s because Crocker is retiring soon; this series of shows will likely be his last.
“I wish I could report that it’s getting better, but unfortunately it isn’t. It’s hard, too, because we’ve started school again, and I can’t go to the places where I used to go. And it can’t be like it was. And I wasn’t ready to say good-bye just yet.” — Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower
He thought the first few weeks after it ended would be the worst.
It’s just like waking up from a dream, right? That’s what Rose always compares it to, anyway. No matter how fascinating or disturbing or whatever it was, you have to get up and put on your clothes and brush your teeth and then you’ll eventually forget about it.
He gets up and puts on his clothes and brushes his teeth for a few weeks and finds that nothing’s really changed. Rose fails to be surprised by that, either. It’s normal, she says; traumatic experiences can leave such lasting impressions.
“Traumatic” isn’t really the word he would use. It was frustrating, yeah, and sad at times, but it was also fun! And he went a lot of cool places, and made a lot of friends, and now he misses it all. Misses it and misses them and misses her, too.
“Don’t miss me,” she told him once over a late-night video chat, back when grainy webcam feeds and laggy microphone audio hadn’t yet replaced memories of talking to them in person. “I’m still here.”
And indeed she is – more so than anyone else, in fact. It’s not that Dave and Jade have become distant, but now that life has ground back into motion, everyone’s been busy. They don’t always have the time to talk for hours over Pesterchum, or the attention to reply to his texts at any time of day or night.
Or the resources to fly to Maple Valley for the summer.
Dang what is with all these people whose work I admire reblogging my stuff this doesn’t make sense.
*winks at you* Hehe you are welcome! You have nice stuff on your blog, as a matter of fact ;)
IF YOUR HEART DIDN’T SHATTER INTO A MILLION FRAGMENTS WHEN THAT LAST LINE WAS SAID YOU ARE NOT HUMAN.
I watched this the other week and i started crying my eyes out.
See. It’s not fair. They took Goofy, who even in GOOF TROOP was still just overly silly and meant for splapstick, and they give Goofy real world fatherhood problems. And to this DAY I will still mist up for this scene.
Best Disney dad ever.
