SIX SENTENCE STORY

“I do not believe in words, no matter if strung together by the most skillful man: I believe in language, which is something beyond words, something which words give only an adequate illusion of.” – Henry Miller

I noticed the trim of her flowing gown had an accent of gold or was it silver?

Either way, her gown impressed me so much that I began to admire her beauty…starting with her hair which seemed iridescent in the glow of her extreme composure, or maybe awe was the word to describe what I felt in her presence, yes awe was a part of her beauty and mystery, I think.

What started out as fear of the goddess of Nair became almost like a spell that she was binding on us pulling our energy into her dominance.

We were hypnotized by her eyes; she was trapping us like a snake was being guided by music, she would mesmerize us, gain our trust, to be sure the owner knew about us in here while he popped popcorn in the lobby.

I tried to scream, so someone outside the room could hear me, with no sound coming forth through my mouth, nor was I able to move, I’d be stuck here in this room with these people, forever so it seemed.

Unless I would be strong enough, if I could acquire any strength over the goddesses’ power over me, if I could revert my eyes away from her then I could break her hold over me, but how?