by Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik
blush pink cocktail
We walked forth into a room towards the top of the structure. It had a high scarlet ceiling and low arched door less doorway. It was filled with a lofty smoke screen as created by the smoking of hookahs and Cuban cigars. A subtle smell I hadn’t before been aware of smelling permeated the air; a soft scent of jasmine. Sylvester stood beside Marius, though I had not been aware of him joining us and passed me a drink (that I could only assume was alcoholic) that was blush pink in colour and was ensconced in a clean crystalline bulbous glass. I drank deeply, excited to have my inhibitions finally removed from me. I had only ever consumed intoxicants once previously in my short life and that had been on that first February night that I had spent with Sylvester; the night I had lost my virginity.
The three of us walked together further into the room and allowed our eyes to adjust to the strange dulled smoky light.
I was shocked by what my eyes saw; men with brazen naked bodies making love to girls and people happily swapping and going between partners. I had always regarded myself as a very open minded person until this night where I found myself drinking heavily blush cocktail after blush cocktail simply so I would believe what was so clearly before. It was so strange to me to see that my world – the world I had come from- was so at odds with the world in which I now lived. It was as if time had moved on and I hadn’t. I stood almost my soul apart from my body and watched as Sylvester kissed my form and Marius watched eagerly. I felt it. His eyes. His touch. Everything. It was almost as if I was both within and without myself. It was strange for I had never felt not in control of my own actions before. I wanted so much to leave this place of wonder and stay forever.
As I and Sylvester went further and further I suddenly became aware I could see a garden, though, I couldn’t find it again and have no real justification for knowing it was there. But I was there. It was the garden of evil and I was an angel. The windows of the room flung wide open and allowed all the bright lights and noise and merriment of the amusement outside in the garden to enter the busy room. A huge carousel stood with flashing lights all around the crest in a multitude of colours which cast their own limelight down upon the men and girls as they spun ever round and round. Always seeking more. Forever. Eternally. Hair flowing in the dull breeze whipping it back as they flew in their sickening cycle. The inanimate horses towered in shades of black and grey with bright saddles and reigns and harnesses as they flew about with angry cursed looks of furious horror plastered upon their faces and their manes and tails projected in a place of perpetual movement with their hollow muscular legs and harsh hooves raised high as if galloping. As the carousel whirled, a chilling high-pitched waltz played from an unknown source up above. A sick herald to the heavens. The visitors on the carousel beneath gossiped and giggled as they spun their sickly pattern as a break neck pace with an oddly angry cursed looks of furious horror plastered upon their faces beneath their stupid painted smiles.
Drink- blush pink cocktail
By Mitzi Danielson-Kaslik