Short short story 61

The Magician (by Andrew West)

Her footsteps echoed on the stairs as I lit the final candle. She gasped, hand at her lips.

'You did all this?'

I nodded, and held out my hand. She took it, stepped around the scattered petals, and I led her across the rooftop garden. The city sparkled below us as twilight burned into a warm darkness. We sat in velveted chairs at a mahogany table, and I poured the wine.

'I was only gone for an hour - how could you have managed this?'

'I'm a magician, remember?'

She smiled, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes. I slipped the eternity ring from her finger and folded it into a silver napkin.

'Trust me?' I asked.

'Always.' She replied.

I rolled the napkin into a small cylinder, pinched the arrangement between her fingers, produced a match and lit a hanging corner of cloth. A flash of fire and the napkin was gone; my love was now holding a single red rose. Hooked about the stem was an engagement ring. She looked at me, her eyes tearing.

I slipped to one knee. 'Look up, my sweet.'

A delighted smile spread across her face as she glanced at the sky, where rearranged constellations spelled 'marry me'.

That's when the screaming started. I sighed, and sent her to join the other exes. Lovely assistants are so hard to find these days.

[The short short story comp is announced and explained here.]