A short story about a darker kind of magic trick

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'It's almost time.'

The voice was apologetic.

'Yes, yes I know. He's ready.'

The darkness of the room played about the man's shape as he leaned forward, past the briefcase brimming with money, and placed his hand upon Ben's knee.

'Master Ben, I expect you resent the government right now. But we need your art, and your pupil.' A sigh. 'It might be hard to imagine why we do such things sometimes. But we need someone to guide us... To guide the government, to guide the country.'

Master Ben was silent.

'Some of the men, they call you a wizard.' he continued 'I know it's silly. But we need to believe in what you can do. We need to believe that you have the power to influence this election.

I don't know how you do what you do. But the Government needs your magic.'

With a rustle of his suit he was at the door, and gone.

The End

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