by Jeremy Warach
"It's not magic," the disheveled yet composed older man told Sam. "It's just harnessing the energy of space."
Sam nodded and tried to shift his attention back to his newspaper. The nearly empty subway car swayed and rattled as it wound its way through the Bronx. The man had taken a seat uncomfortably close to Sam and begun speaking casually, as if the two were old friends meeting after work.
"Empty space is not really empty, you see," the man continued professorially, projecting as if for a larger audience than Sam. He would have looked appropriate standing behind a lectern, Sam thought, watching him from the corner of his eye while trying to look like he was reading his paper. Had the man's beard been trimmed and his tweed jacket not been falling apart at the seams and had he not smelled as he did, he would have been charismatic. The man was used to public speaking.