No-ing

Teach me one, he says, not so much of a request as a demand; a simple one, he says, an easy one, nothing hard, just teach me one. I hate this moment, I mean, maybe I should take it as a compliment, but all I see is a hunger that I don't like the look of. Besides, any magic worth doing takes a good two years in a cupboard, and when people find out the real magic is not in the tricks, they ain’t so keen. Sorry I tell him, I don't teach. Where can I find out, he asks. Look on the internet, I reply. Where? Give me some sites. I'm done with this talk and I say nothing, but he goes nowhere, just stands there waiting, changing the position of his feet. If you want it bad enough, you’ll find it, I tell him. He looks at me and it is clear the camaraderie is no longer. You are very selfish, he tells me, and storms off. My heart cannot help but sink a little.