Michael Birch enjoyed collecting, rumored to be magical, trinkets. He’d occasionally spend about $200 to get his hands on rare collectibles, but most of the time he was responsible with his money. One day as he stared into the window of an antique shop admiring the possible magical history behind the items, he was approached by a tall lanky man.
     This man was known as “The Triangle” because of the sharp contours of his body. The moment the man began talking, Michael was taken back by his soothing and charming aura. The man began spinning a story about a magical item that could give one power over sleep. Eating said item consecutively over the span of a week would give Michael the ability to stay energized and healthy without sleep for as long as he wished.
     Michael was entranced. Could such a thing exist? What could an item holding power over one of the most important things to mankind possibly be? The man began to rummage in his bag. Michael watched curiously. Could such a powerful object be so carelessly thrown in one’s bag? The man’s eyes lit up as he pulled out a box. As the object came into view, Michael’s smile dropped. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” The man’s slender hands held a box...of cereal. This was a total scam! Many thoughts raced through Michael’s mind. What could this man want? Why was he still smiling? There was no way he intended to actually sell him a magical box of cereal.
     The Triangle began to speak. Immediately the comforting feeling returned. The source of the sudden warmth was the man’s voice. Something about it kept Michael wanting to listen despite how idiotic the words coming out of his mouth sounded. How could this man possibly mean him any harm when his words were so calming. Maybe this magical cereal thing wasn’t so foolish. Who really knew how magic worked?
     Despite his lax state, Michael found the idea of actually buying it absurd! The tenacious man, however, succeeded in persuading Michael. The Triangle pitched his deal. 100 for two boxes. Michael began to pull out his wallet when the man stopped him. With a condescending look, he pulled out a long contract. Michael signed and went off with his two boxes. He realized that the deal itself made no sense; it was too late.
     The night he returned home from his encounter he was sure he’d been scammed. He couldn’t quite explain it but something felt off. The Triangle had asked for 100 but no money had been taken from Michael’s wallet or bank account. After a week Michael became less and less tired. He almost cried out in joy. It was real! Magic was real! Perhaps The Triangle had simply forgotten the money.