Reading: "Rituals of the Antithetical" from the novel Rituals of the Antithetical (A.Glass 2023). *I will be doing a reading every 3 weeks from my current book 'Rituals of the Antithetical'. I have a new book due at some point in the future.*

 

Awakening from her sleep, Diarmid looks up at the ceiling of her large studio apartment, hearing the water from the shower recess. She turns to her right side, eyeing the bed sheets, which have been pulled back. The shower stops, Diarmid closes her eyes again, breathing calmly through her nose, she thinks of D’adri and what he has taught her over the last year.
“Meditation,” she whispers quietly to herself, as Johanna enters the room, she smiles at Diarmid who has her back to her, lying on her side.
“I gotta go to work,” Johanna says, as she dresses.
“Steal some perfume for me,” Diarmid replies in a joking manner, still looking away from the woman who is dressing.
“I’ll try. There’s a new perfume by our company called, Gloom. You’d like it…”
Diarmid turns onto her back, propping herself up. Placing the pillow behind her.
“...Cinnamon, Rose with hints of Pepper.” Johanna sits down on a chair which faces an unusual art piece, as she places on her heeled shoes. Diarmid eyes her movements, particularly Johanna’s legs, which are now covered with black stockings.
“You have a good day at work today.”
Lifting her handbag, checking herself in the large mirror wardrobe mirror, she then looks at Diarmid.
“Well, you have a well deserved day of rest. Since it’s your day off...” she replies walking to the front door, facing Diarmid. “..Speak to you soon,”
“Talk later. Take care beautiful,” Diarmid replies, as Johanna leaves her apartment. Standing, she opens the wardrobe doors eyeing her clothes rack, looking at her reflection in the mirror.
“I lost my job yesterday, and it was all a conjure from the start. They suspected. That’s the truth…” She closes the door and walks to her bathroom in preparation to shower.
“...And I don’t care. Because, you ain't gonna know.”

After showering and dressing, Diarmid makes her way outside, exiting her apartment block of One Hundred and Sixty Four Attorney St. She looks up at the postmodern design, constructed in 2015 with its stark polished brick exterior and white window frames. Smiling to herself, as it was a place she had always wanted to reside in, passing by it countless times over the last Six years. The street and the surrounding area held a reflection for her, a necessity to be part of and to be used as a conjuring manifestation. She would commute in and around lower Manhattan, thinking of how to adjure the apartment, despite her predicaments. Diarmid’s perception and astuteness guided her towards the graft. But, it did not occur overnight, it took time and from this achievement, since moving into the apartment a year ago, she is still ecstatic in all of its resonation. Pausing briefly. Diarmid ties her short blond hair into a ponytail, holding the hair-tie within her front teeth, she looks down at her dark gray chunky style sneakers, paired with black leggings and her boyish long black shorts with its Four pockets on either side and dangling tassel like zips. Her hair now in place, she walks onward and from the back of her neck, if one is to look carefully, there can be seen a tattoo of the Hebrew letter Aleph, above a small tattooed diamond, the first and silent letter of the Judaic alphabet. The mysterious one. And it is this mystique of quietness. The discernment of fate, within a mortal realm. That Diarmid guides the external, without its awareness.
“So much looking forward too my croissant and coffee. And this new day…” Diarmid looks up a the clear blue sky, with a pleasant South East breeze blowing in from downtown. “...Amazing.” Nearing 2nd Avenue, she taps the air-pod headphone with her right index finger, which is inserted into her right ear. Connected via a wireless connection to Diarmid’s pager. Where she stores all her music. Listening to the sounds of eclectic Jazz beats. She looks at the street around her and the various people that pass by, eyed mostly as blurred shapes.

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Reading:  "Rituals of the Antithetical" from RITUALS of the ANTITHETICAL (A.Glass 2023)