The Magic Man

Sometimes a magic man would visit a particular village, where many small children laughed and played the day away while their parents labored. This magic man was a gorgeous fellow to the children, and he played with them whenever he came. He took them for rides on the wind, and when they walked, he would coax animals into having friendly conversations with them. When the magic man was there, majestic white palaces shed their nondescript cloud-shawls to tower over the children in the sky. Flowers nodded to them in greeting as they passed, and at night he brought down some stars for the children to play with- reminding them to release the stars before they went home so other children could see them too.

The parents of the children all thought he was a plain, simple-minded deformity who hobbled around their village without much purpose. He seemed harmless enough, so most of the parents let their children play with him anyway. They were too busy with their own affairs to keep their children occupied themselves.

Each time the magic man visited, one of the children would ask him a question before he left. They asked him, "What are you?"

His answer was always simple. "I am the world as you see it," he would say. Then a rainbow would arc down from the sky, carrying him off.

As they got older, the magic man changed, becoming less lovely. Slowly but surely, he performed fewer and fewer wonderful deeds. There came a time when he did not do anything amazing at all. He merely hobbled around their village without purpose, a wistful look on his soft, deformed face. Those who had been his playmates when they were children were disappointed when they saw him; some were even rather disgusted. Eventually, they learned to not pay him any attention as they moved about with their lives. Their eyes were focused rigidly on the earthen paths they trod, wearing the sensible blinders of reality. Clouds were clouds, flowers were part of the scenery, and everyone knew that the stars were too far off to be reached.

One day, one of the children he used to play with approached him. Of course, she was not a child anymore- narrow, bored eyes and a mouth that was inclined to curve downwards, as the lines on her face showed. "You, you are always hanging around our village, making yourself absolutely useless. You show us nothing of the wonderful promises the world used to have. Why? What are you?" she asked.

The sunken eyes watched her sadly. "I am the world as you see it," he replied. And added, "You don't see very much anymore."

She stared at him for a long moment. Then sensibility took over, and she let out a contemptuous snort and pushed past him. 'Just some poor, deranged simpleton after all,' she decided. 'What on earth did we see in him as children?'

The man who had once been full of magic left the village, plodding down a well-trodden dirt path. None of those children- adults, now- ever saw him again.

And when their children began spouting nonsense about riding the wind and playing with stars, they merely shook their heads in tolerant indulgence.