Wednesday, March 16, 2011

WHO WROTE THE BOOK OF LOVE?

They watched. They all watched. Doctor Franklin and some of the gentlemen from the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau crowded in front of the screen. Papa was in the chamber. He was there with Baylah, holding her in his arms. And he hung suspended, occupying a spot in the ether approximately twelve feet above the petrified bodies of Sarah and the little ones. A mist eminated out from his body. Minute points of light sparkled within it. This seemingly living vapor settled upon every surface. It coated the elves and cherubs and dripped throughout the drapes and folds of Sarah's garment. And from somewhere far away, strange chords resonated up from the supposedly sleeping Great Armonica. They were in union, Papa and this unusual machine. The surfaces of the sleeping life-eaters glistened. Stone became smoother, taking on the appearance of skin. And in a series of tiny, baby steps the frozen ones were brought back. Baylah appeared to be sleepwalking. Yet her brows were knit together in deepest concentration. One of the agents left to check on the Armonica. Everyone else stayed just where they were. None dared move. Then it happened. Just a little movement, but you could see it. There, over to the left, toward the corner. One of the cherubs quivvered, much as a baby waking up from a nap. And then it began to spread. Others twitched, stretched and grimaced. Life was returning to the life-eaters. Sarah suddenly opened her eyes. She screamed. She sat up, quicly scrambling to her feet. Her breasts heaved, sucking in the superfluous oxygen. She looked around her and went to the little ones, helping them get up and find their bearings. Some of the cherubs cried. They were scared. She comforted them and they quickly began to flit about the chamber taking its measure. The elves, being more sensitive and astute, looked directly into the camera. Their large eyes filled the screen. And on the other side of that image, the people gathered 'round the flat-screen receiver started to cheer and clap. Doctor Franklin actually cried......Sarah looked up. Her eyes met Papa's. I could not tell what she thought. But he floated down to her, setting a groggy Baylah upon shaky feet.....And in another part of this underground compound, Jonathon bit into his companion. Was it her doing? Was it his? Were other hands at work? What difference would any of that make? A new vampirina was being born at the exact time another still new vampirina was waking up......How were they to reconcile this arrangement? One castle, one queen. But Jonathon/Tomas came from a time and place when castles had women's quarters, when castles had harems.  And a new form of courtly love spread out and settled upon our Philadelphia universe.....What was originally a 'line' was now a triangle. Can you follow, or is the study of romantic geometry a bit  too complicated for you?......