I enter a conical tower built from weathering steel. The rooms close and open with sliding glass doors, revealing music and laughter as I walk past. The rooms are dim, or coated in neon, with low furniture, stretching on and on, around corners, and further up, one cone inside another. I enter a door through a breach of fog that floats among my legs and rises at the corners into ventilation shafts. Women and men dance, blacklit against neon bulbs and glow strips, gypsy arms in the air, to electronics.

A red haired creature adopts the form of a tall woman and walks past, her eyes glowing above the night crowd. The music grows, moving to the beat of her steps. Is she looking into me? Past me? Nowhere? A terrible and warm red descends and she pushes through it, a goddess among the men and women of the party. I see her suddenly in a coldly furnished and dark living room of crystal, steel, and black marble, reclining at the center of it on a hard leather bench, naked alabaster skin, like a roman queen across a triclinium.

She’s gesturing me on with those eyes, the beast, the harpy. Standing over her in that storms eye, she encompasses me.


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