poemtry and prose

The stillness of the full moon enshrouds the world in a supernatural glow. On nights such as this, when the moon is full, time twists unexpected and impossible. Out of their homes they come, trickling into the nightclub. The Friday night masquerade. Some of them wear leather jackets, black and drab, with torn clothes and boots. Others dress in technicoloured costumes bought from second-hand thrift stores, their hair done up in bizarre, abstract horrorshow styles. Like high school cliques, they know what to expect and all share the same desires as to what overtures the night will tease them with. With the same emotionless, expressionless stare reflecting from one face to another, they dance to the beat of an almost headsplitting rhythm and noise.

Primal smells of sweat hang thick in the air. Strobe light effects and smoke ebbflow along with the listless bodies of the dancers. Then she walks in, materializing from the smoke itself. At first, there is nothing noticeable about the newcomer. Her physical features aren't what draw them to her. No, she looks the same as the rest of the pulsating crowd with her ankle-length black velvet dress, a popular style from the Gothic era. Her hair is long, straight and blonde. Just your average adolescent immaturity hoping the local scene will provide her with fun this Friday evening. Nothing too special here except what is placed upon her head. A plain red-velvet, crumpled tophat one size too large for her head beckons them from the hypnotic rhythms of the music.

They flock to her. They are captivated by the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat and its wearer and what they might offer them. To some, the hat becomes the center of intense desire. They want it. They try and steal it from her. Some of the boys take bets as to who will win this girl over tonight, as others wager how long she will keep the hat.

Others believe that if they wear the it, then they too can have the same power that she has over their peers. The crowd of people gathering around her crescendo as the attempts to steal the hat increase in number. A few of them almost succeed, but the girl with the cobalt blue eyes and rose red lipstick manages to keep the hat upon her head. She seems to enjoy the attention and jovial atmosphere that it fosters and isn't offended by her familiars' playfulness.

The fast beat lingers throughout the hazy world this girl creates around herself. Dancing, she entices her followers like a messiah leading a chosen few to salvation.
Along the way, the club's atmosphere changes noticeably from the common angry,
reckless demeanor to a more friendly and caring mode. People standing near the bar look into the mirror see her. They turn and stare at the hat as she passes them. Those who gathered around lose interest in the music, and become exhilarated by the felicity the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat kindles. Those still in the groove of the night also begin to glance around and whisper among themselves as the smoke obscures their vision of the wandering parade.

Rancid dreams, knives bleed pours out of the loudspeakers as a fight between two boys combusts. Nobody knows why. It just happens. Perhaps it stirred because of a debt unpaid or a night gone sour. A knife is drawn. A circle of onlookers forms, bloodlust in their eyes. They expect something majical to happen, something violent to kickstart their desires. But the bloodmajic never occurs. The girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat comes into view before the damage is dealt. Tears stream down her pale face in a gesture of their broken trust. In this moment of angry confusion the two boys glance between their savior and each other, unsure of the escape avenue. The knife disappears, concealed, and the two melt away as if nothing ever happened. The circle, broken, parts. Those who were interested in the fight now return their gaze to the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat somehow knowing that it will offer them something better.

Wandering about the nightclub it's obvious that this girl is alone. Not a single person emerges from the crowd to claim her, although they all desire her. She shyly smiles and giggles at the attention she draws as the tophat slips down her eyes, obscuring them and her smile from those gathered about her. Innocent and pure. All this attention is one big happy flirt to her. Her intentions are no more devious than the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat that sits atop her brow. Yet, at the same time, her path seems planned as if she is searching for someone or has a mission to fulfill tonight.

Off to one side of the nightclub an alter stands. Two figures clothed in black attire sit at a table laced with purple silk. A candelabra burns between them and afamiliar pattern in cards engulfs the space between the two. As the music rises and falls, so do the hands of the reader who divines answers from the pattern.

"Ashes to ashes. Fallen rose to dust. Tarot cards, speak to me of trust, "the conjurer whispers into the cards. Just as he does, the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat crosses their path. The conjurer, half expecting the cards to provide answers to another life, sees a new vision crying out instead.

*****
Love is fragile. And when the last petal fell from the rose, a voice cried out from Heaven. I fell in love that day. It was you, wasn't it? The one with the soft blonde hair and dreamy blue eyes. The one who leapt into my mind stirring crazy thoughts around? Yes, it was you. It had to be you.

Lucifer, my sweet. My fallen, my beloved. You called out to me, touched my heart in places I dare not know existed. One passionate kiss was all it took. I want to play a special role in your life, but know that I cannot. We are separated by a destiny that is greater than our friendship. Tonight... perhaps redemption.

From out of the void, a voice emerges and approaches the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat. In a voice that shakes with fearful desire, he asks, "Are you having fun? Would you like a drink?"

"Yes, I'm having a good time," she replies mechanically, "and no, I wouldn't like a
drink." Then as if not to damage his delicate sense of reality, she allows herself to break free from her meandering mission to dance a song or two with the starstruck admirer while onlookers watch in jealous contempt.

Swept away by the ambiance, the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat suddenly spots a faint outline huddled alone in one far corner of the room. She's not insane. She's gone insane, a voice cries out in lyric. Excusing herself from her partner, she glides her way over towards the form. Leaving him with tears streaming down his face.

"Mind if I join you?" she asks. Her voice barely audible above the fast-paced beat of the music's drum machine.

Her companion pauses, cockshuresmile, and replies noncommittally, "Sure, why not," and bows her head back down. She appears as if a halo were hanging from imaginary horns upon her brow. Black raven locks veil dead eyes from the chaotic world smothering her. Plain jeans and a Skinny Puppy concert T-shirt are all she wears. Unlike the others in the club, who are drawn to the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat, this one is different. Undisturbed by the hat's presence.

"Inner darkness only provides a false sense of security."

Taken back by the girl in the weird hat, she replies, "What did you say?"

"Look Kelai, death is not for you yet. I see the real you and you're different than the rest of these lost souls. As much as you'd like to disbelieve, your life is yours to control. What you have inside of you carries hope to this world seeking salvation."

Stunned Kelai looks over her shoulder, afraid someone has overheard their conversation. "I don't know you. How did you know my name?"

The girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat leans in closer, so her words weigh heavy with understanding. Tenderly, she places a cold hand upon Kelai's arm and says,

"That is not important. Take what precious thoughts I offer you. Your dark moments will pass in time. They will pass. To be here is to be among the living. Allow yourself to revel in the moment. Enjoy the life that has lovingly been given to you. It's too early for you to retire, and there is so much more for you to become before you give up."

The music in the background fades into a melody. Brown eyes gaze upon the girl wearing the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat searching for traces of deception, but cannot find any. Suddenly her eyes widen, then glass over, as waves of released feelings fall forgotten onto the floor. A pang of recognition awakens Kelai as the music behind then climaxes in a fury of anger. An arm extends and the two embrace in a moment of complete empathy. The girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat lets the embrace linger for a few minutes before detaching. The girl in the Skinny Puppy concert T-shirt smiles once more and becomes lost in the grasp of the dancefloor.

Feeling satisfied, the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat also returns to the dancefloor to treasure the moment for a few more hours. She relished this opportunity to come out tonight, to this nightclub, have some laughs, flirt, and dance to the beat of the drum. Yet, as the moon sets and the climax of the night comes and goes, she leaves.

The club now returns to the way it was before her miraculous arrival. Not a trace of her remains as smoke once again fills the room and the faces in the crowd become as blank and untouched as they were before. There wasn't anything too extraordinary about the girl in the big red-velvet, crumpled tophat.

Nothing too extraordinary. Except, maybe the pair of wings that never once disturbed the delicate balance between man and angel.