I do believe in magic. I was born and raised in a magic time, in a magic town, among magicians. Almost everybody else didn’t realise that we lived in that web of magic - connected by the silver filaments of chance and circumstance, but I knew it all along. See, this is my opinion. We all start out knowing magic. We are born with whirlwinds, force fires and comets inside of us. We are born able to sing to birds, and read the clouds, and see our destiny in grains of sands. But then we get the magic educated right out of our souls….after you go so far away from it, you can never really get it back. When people get weepy at movies, it’s because in that dark theatre, the golden pool of magic is touched, just briefly. Then they come out into the hard sun of logic and reason again, and it dries up, and they’re left feeling a little heart sad, and not knowing why. When a song stirs a memory. When moats of dust turning into a shaft of light takes your attention from the world. When you listen to a train passing on a track at night in the distance, and you wonder where it might be going. You step beyond who you are, and where you are. For the briefest of instances, you have stepped into the magic realm. That’s what I believe.