Magic magnifying glass

An ordinary object that becomes magical first has to be an ordinary object, one that is regularly used, that can be considered an ordinary part of someone’s day. The magnifying glass was, for Alexander, an ordinary object. After all, he was an unemployed aspiring entomologist - what else did he have to do besides take his magnifying glass and his sketchbook or his phone outside with him to observe insects? (Realistically, he had plenty he should have been doing, like applying for jobs to make him not unemployed, but Alexander didn’t make responsible decisions. He was an immature twenty-three year old with the abundance of free time his childhood self could only daydream about - he was going to use the time he had.)

And indeed, Alex did take his magnifying glass out with him when he walked in the woods, ignoring dogs and their walkers in favor of magnifying leaves, wondering if some might be moths hiding themselves. He would magnify bees, see the mites and pseudo scorpions that clung to the furry legs of bumblebees. Amazing, he would think to himself, sometimes documenting what he saw on his phone to post to iNaturalist. Amazing, yet ordinary, capable of being observed by the naked eye, yet not being observed by Alex’s naked eye in favor of the magnifying glass. Alex’s magnifying glass made the insect life larger, almost like an extra compound eye of the sort Alex observed underneath his magnifying glass, the flies staring back up at him, seeing him as alien as he saw them, possibly not even knowing Alex was alive. Alex was a behemoth compared to a fly, especially a short-antennaed fly with compound eyes like the type he was metaphorically comparing to his magnifying glass in his head.

Alex wasn't quite sure if he was becoming more observant, or his magnifying glass was somehow increasing in magnification. He was probably becoming more observant, seeing nematodes munching away at persimmons and the beginning of rot on otherwise perfectly green leaves. Alex was wasting his twenties outside doing a whole lot of nothing, and his magnifying glass' apparent improvement at its job was likely a symptom of that reality that Alex spent so much time peering through it. After all, a magnifying glass increasing its magnification without external devices would be magic and magic wouldn't happen to someone like Alexander. He didn't deserve magic, let alone a magical magnifying glass. He felt childish enough using his magnifying glass, knowing most people who used them regularly were children. A magical magnifying glass? Would definitely be more deserving in the hands of a child. Then again, some types of magical creatures deliberately targeted those who didn't deserve them, like some types of fae or... yeah Alex didn't know much about magic. He knew he appreciated being able to see smaller and smaller details with his magnifying glass though.

Alex took the train into Boston to meet a friend for lunch. His magnifying glass in his pocket only mattered due to the fact that it, like his other ordinary objects in his pockets (his wallet, his phone and the magnifying glass), had his hands protecting his pockets as he darted across city streets to avoid losing his pedestrian right of way. The magnifying glass stayed in his pocket throughout lunch, as Alex listened to Justin talk about his research and how irritating MIT traditions could be, as he explained why said traditions existed, as Alex buried his own bitterness beneath genuine-seeming smiles and questions. He tried to be happy for his friend, truly, he just had so much jealousy at the fact they were a graduate student and Alex was nothing. Alex was lucky he still had a friend from high school, however, so he directed the conversation towards safer, less envy-inducing topics such as fiction.

Alexander and Justin went for a walk after lunch, eager to enjoy the nice weather while they still had it. Justin found the prospect of pretending to feed the city squirrels hilarious, and asked Alex to film them doing exactly that. Alex did. His magnifying glass stayed in his pocket until the two friends found a chestnut tree, when Justin suggested they collect some to actually feed the squirrels. Alex agreed, and took out his magnifying glass to make sure he wouldn't be feeding the squirrel any excess protein.

"What is that?"

"Magnifying glass."

"Cool! Do you think it could magnify the squirrels for us?"

"Maybe?" Alex aimed the magnifying glass at the nearest squirrel, three feet away from the twenty-something-year-old pair of friends. The spikes of fur on its tail grew through the lens, indeed magnifying the squirrel to insertnamehere's liking, who grabbed the magnifying glass out of Alexander's hand. 

"That's wicked. I can see their beady little eyes, and this one's got chompers! Toss him a nut, why don't you?" Alex did just that, the nut landing in front of the magnifying glass, obstructing Justin's view of the squirrel as the squirrel darted closer, nose almost touching the glass. 

"Holy shit, is that?" Alex tapped his friend's arm, trying to prompt them to give him the magnifying glass back as he could see individual eyelash mites on the squirrel. Justin handed the magnifying glass back but bent over if, partially preventing Alex from seeing through it.

"Dude, the squirrel has hella mites on its little eyelashes!"

"That's what I just said!"

"But you can't see them without the magnifying glass!"

"Yeah, that's what a magnifying glass does. It magnifies."

"That's insane, man! Let me get a picture!" Alex held his magnifying glass steady as his friend took pictures. Only the sunlight refracted at just the wrong angle and Alex had to shut his eyes, unintentionally jerking his hand as he did so.

"Damn, did the sun get you?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"No problem. Hey, want to see if there's any fleas hopping between duck feathers?" Justin asked and Alex nodded, knowing there would be. He had aimed his magnifying glass at robins before, and fleas between feathers was a near universal occurrence. Still, Justin was excited, and Alex hadn't had something someone else wanted in a longtime.

Only none of the ducks let Justin and Alex get close to them, and Alexander's tool unfortunately was not a pair of binoculars. The duo did get plenty of exercise failing to sneak up on the birds, and Alex was content when he finally began the train and bus ride back to his suburb, his friend having Shakespeare ensemble rehearsal at MIT to attend.

Alex cleaned his magnifying glass more often than he cleaned the glasses that resided on his head. Still, his eyeglasses had one benefit his magnifying glass didn’t - they had minimal distortion. Distortion was to be expected when magnifying just about anything, but Alex didn’t really care when he was alone - he could compare what he saw through the magnifying glass with what he saw with his bare eyes or with what he saw when he zoomed in using his phone. 

Justin, however, didn’t care about distortion - he just liked seeing cool stuff through the magnifying glass. Alex tried to warn him when he thought what Justin was a trick of the light or an artifact of distortion, but Justin wasn’t exactly known for his listening skills.

Plus, Alex couldn’t necessarily know, when his magnifying glass was magnifying beyond what his bare eyes could see, whether what Justin thought he saw was real or not. Justin really liked the magnifying glass. He repeatedly borrowed it for weeks, forcing Alex to visit his dorm simply to get the magnifying glass back. Alex should have bought more magnifying glasses; maybe whatever magic had occurred with the first one would occur with a new one.