The Novice

He began by breaking down pen spinning, telling me even the spaces in between fingers have names. I was more interested when I believed he was psychokinetic, but I kept listening to him explain the finger slot system because his tone was one I’d let guide me out of body.

He looked like a worn ghost story, one with the backbone to withstand generations just so I could hear its entirety. He described the Shadow and Inverse Shadow while my eyes trailed into the dusk of his sleeves. How many undiscovered caves are there due to a lack of decent roads?

He told me “Mostly everything is abbreviated and punctuated.” I felt like asking what he did with the time saved, but instead I pried

“Why?”

He quoted Carl Sagan and suddenly I was craving 
carameled apples. Arachibutyrophobia, I cringed. 
“You’re pretty when you make that face.” He admitted, 
his stain-glass irises never looking at the white
 pen that promenaded around his fingers.