You never stopped thinking about him. Not really. Your old friend, Oscar from Omaha who disappeared in a hot air balloon one day and never was found. Most assumed he was dead...but not you. You knew better than that. You knew your wizard as you called him was out there someway somehow.

You two were hustlers who ran a magic show with a travelling carnival. He'd make doves disappear, make roses out of thin air and saw you in half...You were his pretty assistant and eye candy in little tights and heels...But it was all a big scam. Well done illusions marketed as magic to stupid people...And you two often picked pockets and tricked people at your shows too.

But he was a wizard to you...You two were just carnies but there was a magic about your Oscar. He was a brilliant illusionist and inventor...and you loved him.

And one day he was out in the carnival hot air balloon admiring the view and sketching up some new inventions and he wasn't paying attention...His head literally was always in the clouds...and your best friend just...drifted away never to be seen again.

So you took to his hobby years later now...You missed him fiercely...And being up in the sky helped you feel closer to him. It should have alarmed you because hot air ballooning was the same way he got lost in the first place, but you would do anything to feel like he was with you again. He was your best friend and maybe sometimes even more...more likely he was your soulmate but you were so young at the time just two kids from Nebraska running a carnival scam

Yet here you can nearly feel the serenity and joy you used to feel with your wizard. The sunshine turns to stars as you stay in the air for as long as possible and the balloon begins to rock back and forth in the wind like a cradle lulling you to sleep.

And when you wake...the sky is so blue...and below you is a technicolor city of emeralds. Before you can even register what's happening your balloon is pulled in to land, men and women and animals dressed all in rich shades of green stare at you shocked and adoringly whispering of a wizardess and someone foretold by ancient prophecies. But you hardly have time to speak with anyone before secretaries and monkey guards and assistants are rushing you to the grandchambers of their leader and shut the door behind you.

And down the hall inside of the emerald colored room sitting between the mechanics of a great automated monster looking robotic face is...your wizard. Made handsome and dashing with age, his and a comfortable life. His hair is silver, eyes fox like, face handsome and distinguished and he's dressed in a lavish emerald suit with about twenty golden chains running down the front of it and poppies embroidered on the sleeves. And he's looking perfectly at home between the gears and screws of his machine, the curtain to his control panels and his sitting space pulled back as he tinkers...In his own little world as always...Not noticing you yet.