His breath was steady, determined. He's done this routine a number of times. Heck, he could do it in his sleep if he wanted. His knuckles grew white as he held onto the pole. It was cold, the metal. Red stripes decorated it, yet it still shone like Christmas morning. And he was going to bring the present. His footsteps echoed. The stage was hollow for the magician's phony tricks. The ones with trapdoors and pulley wires. To be honest, he'd never liked them. He never could. It took years for him to hone his skill and become true entertainment. No deceit was necessary to put on a show. But he couldn't worry about that now. The curtains would open soon in 3, 2, 1... Lights flooded his vision. The crowd started cheering him on. He could see little children smiling and waving. This is what he does. This is why he does it. And so, he jumped on his unicycle and started the show.