Wednesday 4 April 2012

Chapter 12: Echo [part 2]


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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