Reading: "Dead Cities of the Stars" from RITUALS OF THE ANTITHETICAL (A.Glass 2023)

 

“Some Rum?”
Dalens nods.
As Deliah stands, making her way to a small collection of bottles that sit behind an alter, which has a small red crystal glass residing in the middle of Two crystals either side, on the left, a black Obsidian crystal, representing the void that is of the left-hand-path, on the right a Howlite crystal, in its meditation of accepting imperfections of the light. She reaches over and lifts up a bottle of aged dark Rum, removing the cork, she pours the dark fluid into Two whiskey glasses. Carefully placing the bottle back behind her alter, lifting up both glasses, she hands one to Dalens.
Sitting back down, she holds the glass with her left hand, as does Dalens, she then turns it anticlockwise three times.
“Of the antithetical, let it be the path of the left. In all of its purity and chaos. We are of the calm.”
Deliah completes her chant, as both of them drink from the Rum.
“Very nice,” Dalens says, looking at the fluid within the glass and the distortions of light that reflect through its interior.
“Yes it is...” Deliah replies, holding the glass with both hands between her her thighs. “...So, San Francisco. Did it go well?” She asks, as Dalens turns and looks at the now darkened skyline from Delilah’s apartment window, he then faces the woman sitting in front of him.
“It did, investigation into a Hedge Fund evolved in the Crypto market. An asset with no value. But, away from the assignment. San Francisco held a more significant reason for me.”
“Your past?”
“My mother’s, she debuted as an actress at The Curran Theater in Nineteen Eighty Four. It was however, unexpected to see that theater on my last evening in San Francisco…” Lifting his glass, Dalens has another sip of Rum, he then briefly thinks of Denise Bianchi, the person who hired him for the job. Their dinner together and subsequent tryst later that evening. “...It is still an era that I sometimes think about.”
“Of your upbringing?” Deliah asks, aware of Dalens past and its obscurity.
“My realizations, which occurred at such an early age.”
“You are still my teacher Arvie. I owe a lot to you...” Deliah says, as she uncrosses her legs, leaning forward and placing the glass of Rum near the gift that Dalens had given her. “...But, I must ask you. The past is still a study. But to what extent do we need to draw from its shadow?”
“Very good Delilah. I agree. However, I am only looking at a segment of the past, as it appears in my dreams and visions. An experience, many years ago in the early Eighties. A woman, a lot older than me.”
“The beginning of your sexual meditation?” Delilah asks, leaning back into the couch, holding her breath slightly while pushing her chest downward, onto her lower stomach and pelvis to control her own urge building to fuck the man sitting in front of her.
“Yes, it was”
“These memories can haunt,” she adds, abating her desire slightly.
“They can and I have been careful not to disturb the ghosts. Yet, after San Francisco I feel a need to realign elements of my timeline. The spirit of my mother has been released. And the past reconciled, into the reality of the now.”
Delilah stands, walking back to her alter, she lifts an incense, using a lighter, she ignites the top of the stick.
Placing it into a holder on the mantle piece, behind where she is sitting.
“Tibetan incense?” Dalens asks, as he is aware of the scent.
“It is,” Delilah replies, sipping from the Rum.
“I can smell the hibiscus and saffron…” Closing his eyes. “...The most divine spice…” Opening his eyes. “...Do you mind, if we discuss some of my visions.”
“Of course, that is why I have lit the incense and have given you the Rum. I would have expected you to do so.”

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Reading:  "Dead Cities of the Stars" from RITUALS OF THE ANTITHETICAL (A.Glass 2023)