"I've seen your performance many times," replied the small boy. "Your eyes always looked so distant, like they were already seeing that place you'd disappear to. Then when you disppeared, the rest of your body would just be joining your eyes there. That is where I want to go."

The magician's assistant looked at the small boy standing before her, and wondered about telling him the truth. But truth is mundane and commonplace, and sometimes truth kills the spirit within us. Then she slowly spoke. "I've a magic cloak hidden in the box that I step in for the disappearing act. When I put on the cloak, I'll turn invisible. Sometimes I'll step out of the box unnoticed, and go walk around the hall to sit next to the audience. I've sat beside you before, and when you were staring hard, fascinated by the box.. I was just next to you, ruffling your hair. I always return to the box in time to remove the cloak and reappear. I didn't go anywhere actually. I've always stayed here."