The Magician

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The Magician

Staggered through an alleyway; passed out in the trash. Not a problem – it formed around my body like a black plastic throne. That was when my subjects came to pay me tribute.
“O, wise and noble bum,” said a plague of rats that emerged from the smelly heap. “We only ask that we may dwell in the spacious courtroom of your head.”
“Sure,” I replied. Why not? “Climb in my ear.”

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