the evening party

On a hot August day we wandered into the building for shade and silence. We received it. In the dark passage only the water-fountain made a sound as it moistened our burning lips. We closed our eyes to savour the coolness in our throats, and then, bursting through, music. An organ.

Not so fast. It sang. Shade and silence. At the height of summer. Why? Come here, yes, faster, your feet hurt, I know, from searching, but I have it, come see. Put your hands on the walls, follow the vibrations, it's just a little further. Stop! Now turn the corner, slowly. There.

I can feel you trembling. Good.

Observe how inviting it is, like the innermost chamber of a beehive. It smells of warmed wood & varnish. Clean, smooth, upright. The altar is like your favourite bonbon, wrapped in that gold foil that makes your fingertips tingle as you smooth it out. Go ahead, roll the sweetness around in your mouth until you've finished caressing it. Give yourself an instant to exist purely for its flavour. Then, open your ribcages, allow yourselves to sigh, let the kind reflected light enter you. Become colourful and clear like the window panes. This angelic complexion suits you. Will you stay?