The host, especially, was getting extremely agitated and
perturbed by the apparent missing piece in this jigsaw of a gathering.
Motioning for one of the statues, or rather waiters, he whispered into his ear
and demanded, perhaps with a little to much angst where his missing guest is.
At that moment, thunderous footsteps echoed throughout the hall. It was if an
elephant was running through the very same compound that they had all been
gathered together in.
The guests turned their heads and before them beheld a
scruffy looking man hiding in a suit. Hair obviously sculpted by the wind,
shoes and pants that were decorated with dots of mud, and a rather foul
distinct stench of sweat and panic. Heavy panting and a slouched back at the
entrance of their company certainly completed the worst first impression ever.
Perhaps he was the harbinger of something greater to come? Or was he just the
jester of the night.
‘I’m sorry’
A complete standstill ensued as they looked at their man.
Then like a small flame being flushed out by a pail of cold water, the
tenseness vaporized and the air was once again jocund and light. They laughed
at his stiffness instead and patted him on his back as he made his way to the
centre of the hall, all this while still trying to make himself presentable and
blend comfortably with his peers.
Screech, went the chair as he thrust himself on it. Gently,
he opened the lid of the wooden box. It was hollow, save a few keys that all
looked the same. He stared blankly at it for a moment, seemingly expecting the
keys to unlock a door in his mind.
Then it came.
Like a searing wave of the sea, the box took everyone by
storm. A soldier marched out of the box, followed by another and another, until
an entire troop was present. They marched pompously around the room with their
steps clear and sharp. Drills and routines peppered their performances as they
continued their majestic showcase in the awe of the spectators. Suddenly, it
came to a halt. At the blink of an eye, it all disappeared. All that was left
was a lady in a red Spanish dress. She started to dance feverishly and with a
fire that ignited the souls of the audience. With every breath she took, her
aims flailed wildly and her leaping and wild, exotic dancing resembled that of
a gypsy circling a fire with inconsistent steps that was so determined by her
own inner heartbeat that bled uniqueness.
The box surprised again.
Her dancing grew slower and slower, like a sprinters steps
after the race, until it reached a standstill. The box consumed her and after a
brief moment of silence, it spat out another woman. She was nothing like the
elegant and pomp of the first two. Dressed in an elegant black ensemble, she
knelt and buried her face. Whimpers were heard. So soft they were, that they
strained hard to even hear the emotion of her expressions. They gradually grew
louder and her cries became thunderous to the ear of the listener, though she
maintained her discreet volume. She wept. Her tears flooded the hall and took
out the lights that had previously lit up the room so brightly and gloriously.
Though such was her gloom, the only light that descended upon the entire room
chose to fall upon her. Moonlight radiated on her glowing white skin as her
teardrops sizzled as they dropped to the ground. Then, before their eyes her
tears became sparks. And the sparks grew to larger and untamable flames. It
spread and the hall was on fire, though only she burned. Unforgettable. The
twisted and demented face of horror as she finally looked up! Without warning,
she charged to the nearest window and flung herself Perhaps hours. out. Eyes
shut, and though with lungs burning for oxygen, their ears were in utter
anticipation of the crash. Seconds.
Maybe minutes. Perhaps eternity. Time, itself, refused to confine such soul
wrenching events to mere human limits. But then it came, and what a surprise it
was. Just a simple cushioned drop and she lay dead.
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