So far away from the rattling of machinery and the soot of diesel fuel, the lazy flow of electricity humming from every outlet, lights piercing the darkness with an eerie inconsistency, flickering and flashing at the intersections and in storefronts, asking the wary pedestrians to try just a little like some cheap peddler touting cheap jewelry in an alleyway. Far away from the casual bickering of the ladies in the Eagles hall, buying youthfulness with every martini, hiding under expensive clothing in all the latest styles, pooh-poohing the nasty habits of their husbands in the card room who laughed heartily through mouthfuls of bourbon while throwing chips at the table as fast as the cards fell, thick cigar smoke reeling out the half opened windows into the misty air curling into wisps and fading away into the soft yellow fog.

So far away from reality, his eyes glinted a reflection of the incandescent bulb hanging directly in front of him, swinging slowly from side to side, giving the entire room a tilted demeanor in the waxing and waning shadows, his empty cup hanging limply in pallid fingers as if deceased.   Velvet and gossamer costumes lay scattered about on the scratched wooden floor to be trod underfoot by carelessly placed footsteps, weaving and winding through the cramped space in the tiny room. Weathered boxes spilled their contents from overstuffed lids, barely tottering on the edge of the thin shelving, the only reason for not tumbling off being they were stacked so tightly together.

 

In silent memorial, a symbol betrothed

With silence, darkness forever paired.

 

His lips mouthed the quiet words repeating them monotonously like a chant, growing in timbre as time wore on, his eyes remaining fixed on some unseen spot between the hanging bulb and the far wall, completely hypnotized. A pile of papers lay in a flurry on the desktop, the dark wood barely distinguishable underneath the assorted mess of work, most seeming to be in partially completed and utterly random piles. Stacks of well read books lined the sides of the furniture, cascading up into the lofty ceiling in dangerously haphazard rows, efficiently removing the chance of finding any given piece of literature, their old leather covers collecting dust in the crowded space. And now a new expression overtakes his sunken cheeks, his eyes instantly brightening as if a light was turned on inside of the fog, a look of total excitement like a birthday party for three year olds. He leaned over and held a hand out into the air, as if expecting a pencil to fly from the cluttered desktop then leaned over promptly and collided with the floorboards in a noisy series of thumps and bangs as his chair fell over from the disorder. Nevertheless he quickly stood up and casually wiped messy streaks of dust off his wrinkled suit, straightening the collar line before again trying his motor skills. He took two steps, slumped over onto the desk on his elbows, and started scribbling madly on a series of papers that lay in front of his pencil, seemingly at random.

 

 

Light consumes darkness, a shadow is born

 

The specter lies buried in dust and ruin

Eternally washed by the hands of time

Of origin unknown, there is a talent

The mystery shown, all intention withheld.

 

One becomes split, in three ways

 

 

The delirium was broken by a softly spoken woman, arriving with a abrupt nod of her cropped brown hair. “Mr. Marayek, your guest has arrived, he is waiting in the lobby..” She paused for a very brief moment, as if hesitating whether to just forget about it and return to her other work, wherein his head bobbed slightly higher, gradually looking her in the eye with a piercing stare, affixed on nothing in particular, flitting from her rosy lips barely touching the nectar of romance, to her neck so soft from delicate baths and treatments, her arms slender folding above a smoothly rounded waist.   “Should I send him up to you?.. he has only just arrived, seemed to be in quite a hurry . Sir..” She waited for his response, her feet shifting as if they were ready to walk off to some complete other urgent task.

“Was he alone, dear.. You didn’t notice anything out of place then I assume?” The man’s rigid questions came from a mouth drawn now into a slit, his eyes piercing through the secretary still unfocussed but extremely clear. “I will meet him in the second floor boardroom.”