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The darkness was thick and the streetlamps, located at either side, radiated a warm orange glow, flickering in its attempt to light up the street. No more than an hour ago the sky seemed aesthetic; a light evening blue, tinted with hues of red, orange and pink. But by now all the colours had faded away, leaving behind a dull black panorama, with no stars to be looked upon. The long shadows, which were cast upon the streets by the apartment blocks, have now slowly blended into the engulfing darkness. And in the midst of this darkness a stranger made his way, wading through the crowd and the chilly winter air, with one sole purpose- to meet Hugo. Hugo was a magician who owned a small magic shop called “The House of Magic”.
An old man now, Hugo lived alone, with only memories of his checkered past- memories which both warmed as well as haunted him. The stranger claimed to be an old friend of Hugo, but one whom he neither remembered nor recognised. To resolve this predicament, the stranger proposed to narrate a story- a story about a young boy, his journey and “the greatest magic trick the world will never know about”.
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