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Life Could Be a Dream

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"It's rigged."


Arthur throws a rubber ball into the air and catches it, testing its weight. "I'm not sure how," he says. "It just is."

With an overhand pitch, he lobs the ball at a pyramid of tin cans. It goes high, over the cans and into the padding at the back of the booth.

"Do you want to try something else instead?" Ariadne offers, nibbling on cotton candy. "Wac-A-Mole? Ring Toss?"

"No, I'll figure it out." He picks up another ball.

He winds up, underhand. When he lets go, a plume of silver and gold dust erupts from his hand, eddying around the booth.

"You threw glitter?"

"You set up a localized gravity distortion."

The glitter is suspended in the air, hanging and bobbing erratically.

He vaults over the counter and jumps up a few feet into the air, towards the prizes hanging from the top of the booth. He snags a sky blue bear and floats back down, handing it to her.

When she reaches for it, he grabs her arm and pulls her into the booth. They crush together, then she floats over him, laughing.

Sparkles dance around them in the summer sun.