The illusion was that your head and your heart had gone in different directions, but only I fell for that. Everyone else looking on had seen your trick before and knew that you'd just contorted yourself up inside the boxes. I was really only an audience of one.
My anxiety at the sight of the blades, at the violent separation of the compartments slamming apart, was all part of the show. It goes on four days a week with matinees on Saturday and Sunday.
But the ironic part was that me being a skeptic, I should have seen through it. But I chose to believe. I wanted to believe it... to believe you. Just once I wanted it to be something other than smoke and mirrors; just once to see a bit of real magic.