Look carefully.  I am about to attempt something very difficult.  If you catch me at it, I want you to say so.  If you don’t, I’ll be happy.  

Very well.  Remember, if I place this odd one on either one, it must make that one odd.  Correct?

On which of the two shall I put this odd one?  This one?  So now this one becomes odd.  

My trick is this.  I shall pass from one to the other, so that this odd one will become even and the even will become odd.

Ready?  Watch closely.

Did you see it?  Of course you didn’t.  My trick is a complete success.  That which was odd is now even and what was even is now odd.

Odd, isn’t it?

Nine days later, we were out walking at night.  There seemed to be no one but us two travelers out on the wet, windy streets of the cold shut-door city. We passed by a closed parking garage. The small structure sat low and empty with its utilitarian right angles, chambers and ramps made of cast concrete half buried in the earth.  

There was a vacant booth placed symmetrically within the building’s face, similar to that of an old cinema.  In the booth there were two black chairs and two black phones, both scattered around a U-shaped black desk.  It was as if it was meant for two people to be in there together. Who would they call?  Each other? The room seemed abandoned with haste, now dusty and unused.  Left behind were the remains of past attempts to perhaps liven up the space - an old picture calendar, a dead houseplant and a large plastic figure of a black cat leaning in one corner. 

Looking through the curved outer glass, our view passed through a circular window in a small wooden door at the back of the booth.  This allowed us a view down into the dark subterranean heart of the garage. In this cryptic space, there was a small fire burning.  No one was around and there wasn’t any evidence or objects to show what was fueling this fire or what its purpose might be.  It was just fire - pure orange and yellow flames on the bare concrete.  It appeared as if it was coming directly out of the floor, perfectly centered, like a crude altar positioned by an invisible energetic plumb-line, demarking the precise axis of the space. It added a strange bright scrap of color, light and movement to the still grey and black monochrome that surrounded us.  There can be secrets hidden within the banality of form.

We looked on in disbelief and some concern, debating if we should let anyone know about this.  We didn’t want to overreact to what might be pure hallucination.  Just then a man wearing camouflage walked by and we asked him if we should tell anyone about the fire.  Without stopping, he looked at us and pressed his index finger to his lips, the sign for silence.  

Odd, isn’t it?

In my hand I have two gold coins.
“Nothing up my sleeve.”
Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.
Feeling like disposable pieces with a noose around our necks.
The snake we think blocks our path is only a light silver chain.
Why won’t we all arise and set a match to the stage?
It’s all just a set-up for the last big trick.

Remember, it’s a disappearing act out on the Royal Road.
Eyes closed and hands out.
Feeding ourselves to the ravens.

Watch closely, the next step is a doozy.  
The first step is right off the cliff.
The moment when your weight shifts from one foot on solid ground to the other foot dangling out into the abyss.

Anxious henchmen guard the gates of Chapel Perilous.
They fear a loss of power, a false threat seen as worse than death.
Just give ‘em a wink and walk on through. They’re only shadows.

Old Age or New Age,
life is for living and the curtain will fall soon enough.
Even at night, the waves never cease.
It’s getting dark again and time is marked by an ancient stone.
You and everything that surrounds you, all of us are one.
Our separation is an illusion.

Odd, isn’t it?