Today started off just like any other day—nothing unusual, nothing out of the ordinary. But I’ve learned by now that “ordinary” has a way of becoming something much more in this city. I grabbed my coffee from the usual café, exchanged pleasantries with the barista (who, by the way, I’m still convinced has telekinesis given the way cups seem to float into her hand), and headed out to run a few errands.
But as I went about my day, that subtle awareness of the “other world” never quite left me. It’s funny—ever since that accidental glimpse into the hidden side of things, it feels like I’m in on a secret no one else seems to notice. Take today, for example. There was this moment when I was walking past the bookstore, and the air shimmered for just a second. No one else on the street seemed to see it, but I did. It was like the fabric of reality flickered, revealing something beneath—a glimpse of something older and deeper.
I didn’t go inside, though. I’ve learned not to chase every flicker or odd sensation. Not everything needs to be explored, and sometimes it’s better to let the mysteries stay as they are. Besides, I had other things to think about.
On my way home, I stopped by the park. I hadn’t planned to, but something about the way the light hit the trees made me pause. I found a bench, sat down, and just…watched. People walking their dogs, kids playing on the playground, a jogger running laps around the pond. All so normal. All so completely unaware that, at any given moment, someone with powers far beyond their imagination might be walking right next to them.
I watched a man sitting on a bench nearby. He looked like any regular guy, scrolling through his phone. But every few seconds, a tiny spark of light would appear at the tips of his fingers. It was subtle, almost unnoticeable, but there it was—magic, plain and simple. I smiled to myself. The world really is full of wonders if you know where to look.
Later, I met up with Sarah for dinner. She doesn’t know anything about the hidden side of things, and I’m still not sure if I should ever tell her. Maybe it’s better this way—letting her stay in her bubble of normalcy. We talked about work, weekend plans, and some silly reality TV show she’s obsessed with. It was nice. Just two friends, enjoying an ordinary evening.
But as we were leaving, I caught a glimpse of something—or someone—out of the corner of my eye. A woman, dressed in an old-fashioned cloak, standing at the edge of the street, watching us. The moment I turned my head to get a better look, she was gone. I don’t know if she was real or just my imagination running wild, but it was enough to send a shiver down my spine.
Sometimes, I wonder how many of them—these “hidden” people—are watching us, going about their lives alongside ours. Do they ever get tired of hiding? Or do they enjoy the anonymity? It must be strange, living in two worlds like that, always keeping one foot in the shadows.
As I write this, I feel a strange sense of calm. The world is big and full of things I’ll never fully understand, but that’s okay. There’s a kind of beauty in not knowing everything, in letting some mysteries remain unsolved.
Tomorrow is another day, and who knows what I might see or feel. I’m starting to think that’s the best part—waking up each day and knowing that, somewhere beneath the surface of this so-called normal life, magic still stirs.
