2020 Tapestries: Saint Francis University's literary and visual arts magazine

Bloodstained Capital by Ryan Alu Chapter I In my street-roaming generation, prior to drowning in the sea of red money I fashioned for myself, I had just one belief. Through the dusty gray streets of New York City, I acquired that an illusion is just an allusion to an elusive reality. After my parents perished in a tragic car accident, I had to fend for myself. I existed as an excellent magician but received tragic pay. I held my own fantastic and awe-inspiring and empty shows in a little colorless theater on the corner of 7th and 8th street. Understanding that the money refused to come to me, I traveled to the money. I hit the streets. I went from corner to corner with my hat on the ground, amazing the cigarette butts on the concrete with my confusing magic. After years of my empty hat snickering at me, a blue irritation permeated through my fingers and into my magic. At that very moment, with the tingling at my nails, money turned from gray to red. * * * “Sir! You don’t look too good!” I lied.

“What?” The man said in confusion.

I hurried to keep him in his confused state.

“Sit down, sir. Sit down. You look terrible.”

He reluctantly sat down on the bench beside us.

“What’s wrong, young man? I’m fine. What are you talking about?”

“Here. Just hold this,” I hastily said while giving him a small gold breakaway watch I pulled from my pocket.

The man reached out and it snapped in his scabbed palms.

“Oh my God,” I cried, “It’s worse than I thought. You have muscletensionitus.”

“What? Wait… How do I fix it?” The man said, now very concerned.

“I am a doctor. I can fix you. Just close your eyes.”

He closed his eyes. I repeatedly poked him on his cheek with my blue index finger to distract him while I ran my other hand through his pockets.

“Do you feel that in your arms?” I lazily asked.

“Oh! Oh my God! I do! It’s working!”

“Oh brother,” I mumbled under my breath. “I’m almost done.”

I gave him one more flick on the cheek, stepped back, and melted away into the sea of cars, people, and the daylight of New York. As I walked away, I heard a faint cry for help from the old man, but the sound expired in the wind, and the uproar of pounding feet and 11