F3 A Bit of Magic

     "Left palm," I said to the guy next to me.
     The magician had made the ball disappear, and flourished an open hand to the audience, then the other.
     "Slipped it inside the waist just behind the jacket while flourishing with the right."
     "How do you see all this?" My client asked.

     "I don't, but that's the point. You have to keep your eyes away from where they want them. Next there will be a little fire. Fire is a great little distraction. It's bright, there's a noise, and smoke. Plenty of distraction there."
     Sure enough, there were twin flashes of light and smoke from the magician's hands, and he made knives appear. He flourished again, and threw the knives, one to each side of him. They thunked into little targets on each side of the stage.
     The assistants came up, and removed the magician's coat, then shirt, revealing him to be completely bare chested. He was lean and muscular with his shirt off, and freshly manscaped. There were no places to ditch items with his sleight of hand, now.
     "Please do not be alarmed. This is part of the show," the magician intoned. He stretched out hands, and threads of electricity stretched from each palm out to the dagger. It seemed slow even though it crackled and hissed in the air.
     Next to me, my client gasped, but I was only slightly more objective. I knew the tricks when it came to complex illusions. He shouldn't be able to do this, unless . . . "That's real magic."