No magic

The sun has just set behind the pale mountains far away. Now the moon cast its glimmering light over the small town. Lazy wind swept glowing, fine dust through the streets. Tiny birds ventured abroad from the cool bottoms of their nests, where they hid during the unbearable sizzling of the cloudless afternoon. The town seemed all quiet. And then, when the clock of the spire hit nine, people filled the little square in front of the restaurant. They were streaming out from the place, in lengthy waves, flowing in the light of parafinne lamps, like glimmering salmon trouts up soothing springs in chilling mornings. Loudly chatting, only a few words of their speech could make any sense to the bystander.
"That was some trick"
    "Wow, that huge serpent, I ..."
  "Oh, man, I thought she would die there ..."
"Dammit, it nearly bit my head off!"
The crowd slowly disappeared, finding their ways to their homes. A slight ray illuminated the billboard next to the entrance of the restaurant.
"The Great Magician! Myth and ballads, legends and fairy tales. What mankind could ever imagine, from sacred grounds and pagan lands, He brings you all and more!" - read the announcement. Silence slipped into the streets again, spiced with late songs of tired little birds. A boy and a man exited the door.
"Say, Daddy, that was marvellous sorcery back there, wasn't it?"
"It was very spectacular, indeed"
"And those glowing dragonflies popping out of plain air, they were fantastic, did you see them?"
"They were cute, yes"
"Daddy, do you think I will be able to do things like that? Will I be a great magician too?"
"You see, Christopher..."
"If I try really, really hard? If I practice all the time?"
"Chris, you know, sometimes things aren't what they seem"
"I can wake up early in the morning, and learn till the sun sets!"
"It's not that, son. There isn't magic like that in our world."
"I'll ask Mister Wizard" - he shouted as he ran back into the restaurant.

The hall wasn't anything like the one he exited just a few minutes ago. Pale light filled the room. Strange accessories were laying about - steel, wood and glass fixings all over the floor, the walls, the ceiling. A red-black striped cape covered a chair - it no longer held vicious, crimson snakes squiggling in the mystic darkness of millennia-old forests and ancient ruins. And he, Mister Wizard, was just taking off his fake beard, from which once, not so long ago, golden birds flew up into the air.

A boy and a man walked the street in the darkness. The boy reached out for the man's hand.
"I no longer want to be a magician, Daddy" - he whispered.
"I know, Chris" - said the man, wiping off a tear of the boy's face.
As it dropped to the ground, flowers grew from the mud. The crystal voice of the falling tear followed them, as they slowly floated, flew away in the warm, swirling air.