Dream Lessons: #15 – Timmy’s Fallen Down The Well

Lesson #15

Intricate inter-mob revenge plots – involving your grandma, flooding their house, and then rescuing them with scuba gear – are unlikely to work as smoothly as planned.

[I hope I don’t have to clarify this, but to be perfectly clear, my grandma was a tool of revenge, not the target of it – I have weird dreams but there’s a line people! I even tried to subvert the plan because I felt bad.]


The Old and the New

How could you? I loved you. No more, but once.

Behind every great man is a great woman. Well I was there to make you great, support you, and now this. Our final show, before she takes my place on stage alongside you. The younger, perkier, skinnier me.


How well I’ve handled it, you purr. To accept our marriage is over, that’s she’s now your one and only. To go along with your lie to the press – I’m happily retiring to pursue my other interests and am sure your new assistant will do a wonderful job. To maintain the loving fa├žade that keeps your image intact while you flaunt her in front of me.


It’s a fitting handover trick: the Zig Zag Girl. Cutting the girl in three like you cut through my heart. In anticipation of your new tour with your new assistant, you’ve bought a wider, flashier box. I wasn’t meant to know but walked in on you two practising. Sierra doesn’t like the old box, you explain. It’s too cramped. You and I haven’t used it in years, but in my peak I could fit in it just fine. Maybe she’s not that skinny after all.

Of course she should do the trick with you! It’s a great symbol of the changing of the guard, the passing of the mantle, as I assist while she performs. She can certainly perform, judging by the theatrics I heard from your adjacent hotel room.

I digress.

The bright lights, the eager crowd, still such a buzz. I can’t believe you’re taking this away from me.

One last trick…

For old time’s sake, I convince you to use the faded, narrow box I loved so much. You silence Sierra’s complaints to grant me this one last request. You can tell how much that box means to me. It was our first trick together all those years ago.

I hand you the blades as the crowd hushes expectantly. Our hands touch as you take them from me, you give me a small smile and whisper,
“Thank you”
and I know you mean it. I’ve taken this all so well. I turn away and smile as you slide the first blade swiftly into the box. You’re so used to them, after weeks practising with her, that it doesn’t seem odd to use the new blades, just that little bit longer than the old box allows. And she’s not that skinny.