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At the Bus Stop: The Illusionist

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The Illusionist: When an Empty Bus Stop Becomes the Stage for a Dark, Magical Twist

The Illusionist

Ah, the bus stop—usually a dull, lifeless corner of the world, where the only excitement comes from guessing whether that puddle is shallow or secretly a foot deep. But today, dear passengers, something truly twisted unfolds before my very eyes. Enter: The Illusionist.

The stop was empty just seconds ago—a void, a black hole of mundanity. Then, in the blink of an eye, out of nowhere, there he stands. You blink once, twice, but no, you're not hallucinating (though I can't speak for the rest of you). He’s there, alright. A man who appears with the precision of a knife slicing through butter, smooth, clean, and oh-so-unsettling.

It’s as if reality itself decided to take a breather and let the shadows play their game. One moment, nothing but air—crisp and cold, just like your ex’s heart—and the next? BAM! The Illusionist appears. No sound, no puff of smoke, just a sudden presence that defies the natural order. How did he do it? A secret pact with the devil, perhaps? Or just an ability to manipulate the very fabric of existence itself? Who knows? But I’ll tell you this much—his timing is impeccable, like a dagger finding its mark.

And let’s talk about his aura. Oh, yes, there’s something about him that whispers chaos into the wind. He stands there, with a half-smirk that could curdle milk, giving off an energy that makes you question your own reality. The bus stop transforms from a place of dull routine into a stage set for a play where the lines between dream and nightmare blur. You want to look away, but you can’t. He’s got you now.

He steps onto the bus with a casual grace that belies the malevolence I’m sure lurks beneath that calm exterior. You can’t shake the feeling that he’s not just waiting for the bus, but for something more… sinister. Maybe he’s waiting for the right moment to pull back the curtain and reveal the true horror of his arrival. Maybe the bus stop was just the opening act, and now the real show begins.

As I drive away, I keep an eye on him in the rearview mirror, half-expecting him to vanish as suddenly as he appeared, leaving behind nothing but a faint chill and the creeping dread that you’ve just witnessed something otherworldly. But no, he’s still there, seated, blending into the mundane scenery, but you know, and I know, that there’s nothing ordinary about him. He’s the Illusionist—a master of the unseen, a conjurer of chaos, and a reminder that even the most familiar places can turn into a stage for the strange and unsettling.

So, next time you’re at the bus stop, be careful where you look. Because once you see him, there’s no unseeing it. The world’s a stage, after all, and today, The Illusionist is the star of the show. And you, my dear reader? You’re just along for the ride.


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___ Vincent Roderick

Bus Driver on Route 101

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