And so the Hat Dropped
Not because it wanted to. What hat likes to fall on its nogging?
No, it was the magician that made it so, but not because the magician willed it. He was a perfectionist.
What a failure, he thought.
He was sure he was infuriated. In fact, his face turned the color of a Bloody Mary (without the celery). So angry was the man in the coattails, the man with the handlebar mustache, that he stomped the top hat into a flat hat, too flat to wear as a beret.
But what did he know about feelings? He was, after all, just a character in a story, something random a writer penned.
And maybe the writer was the real magician. Heck, she did pull a rabbit out of a hat to write this story. Who knows, maybe she’ll pull a coin out of your ear tomorrow. Weirder things have happened.