It’s just a stupid magic trick, the musician tried to convince himself but as the magician flicked his fingers and the guitar continued to burn, the musician began to panic.
He flicked his fingers again and nothing happened, and again and again. From the corner of his right eye, he caught a glimpse of the musician whose guitar was presently burning. He looked like he’s about to kill and that look only made the magician sweat harder. Why is this happening to me? The magician wondered and looked to his assistant.
The assistant grinned and blew his a kiss, then she mouthed, “that’s what you get, fraud,” and walked across the stage carrying a fire extinguisher. In the direction of the burning guitar, she sprayed the fire extinguisher. The white foam quickly stopped the fire and what was left was a blackened, burnt-to-crisp guitar.
The musician stormed onto the stage, snatched the guitar, and raised his fist inches from the magician’s face. “You’ll pay for this.” He swung his fist across the magician’s face.
I am participating in Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writer, where we write a piece between 100 and 150 words (more or less 25 words) in length inspired by the photo prompt above.