A Late Night Phone CallA Chapter by Ashe Conten
The Magician sat in the desk chair, annoyed by how must racket The Illusionist was making. He went into a state of dysfunctionality from time to time, where he would repeat the same quote over and over again. Today it was from a Twenty One Pilots song, "Clear."
The clock didn't seem to move, and the magician checked the clock an abundance of times in a two minute period. She sat, staring at The Illusionist with loathing. "I'm the son of all I've done I'm the son of all I've done I'm the son..." He went on and on and on, like a broken record. After about half an hour, the phone rang, causing confusion from The Magician. It was almost one in the morning. Who would be calling so late? She rolled her eyes when she saw the caller ID. It was the Mindreader, a friend of the Illusionist. "What." grunted an annoyed magician. "Um, hi? It's the-" "I know who you are." "Oh, sorry. Did I wake you?" "What do you want?" "I called to check on The Illusionist. He's not answering his phone." "Of course he's not. He's broken again." "What?! Are you helping?" "Hell no. I'm the one who triggered it." The Mindreader sighed on the other line. "I'm on my way." "Wait, no-" The Magician began to protest. "And I'm bringing The Shadow" The Mindreader hung up, leaving The Magician frustratedly glaring at The Illusionist. If it wasn't for that pile of depression, The Magician wouldn't have to interact with The Shadow at two in the morning.
© 2017 Ashe ContenFeatured Review
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