Serial# : QC2591
Dense, pungent incense aromas invaded my nostrils as I entered her maroon tent. Touches of golden shimmers, strewn hanging crystals and obscure paraphernalia adorned the candlelit smoky interior.
“Hello.. Hi, I read the add on the paper, the one claiming ‘With Zorah, foresight is 20/20’…I .. I find myself in need of your services”
Towards the shadowy back fabric wall, from behind a hanging curtain, like a serpent, a skinny arm of pale wrinkled skin, half enveloped in purple see-through cloth, revealed itself as it preceded a raspy voice.
“I am aware. I was told of your visit by the music, don’t you hear it dear?…Oh! But you, you carry a heavy aura around you, a tumultuous one. I see much shame seeping out. Why wasn’t that sung by the tether?..mhmm, highly unusual. Sit down, Hank”
She knew my name, I didn’t question it. Without volition, as if moved by the will of the air around me, I sat down on the cushion pile in front of her ground-level table. The air was thicker around it. She finished exposing herself from behind the hanging curtains as she approached her place at the table. Her face, it was perplexing, it didn’t look to match the rest of her decrepit body. She was young looking from the chin up, rosy, sensuous, smooth, attractive. But her body appeared to be closer to the grave than the world of the living. She was wrapped in many layers of purple and black cloth that at points allowed the soft light to permeate and give me a glimpse of her leathery, bony structure. And atop her greyed hair, a silver pendant encasing a translucent pink gem.
She sat right in front, and as she did, everything around me seemed to had become darker, as if the light had been sucked out of the whole tent, except for the space between us, now clearer than ever. I was mute.
“Petal, you have come to me hoping for a lifeline. You wanted to know her heart. Another chance perhaps? You wanted certainty, you needed a truth untold; and a prayer hung upon fate’s lattice asking for a favor. But the tether is mysterious and its tendrils vibrate and sing all throughout the cosmos. Your music has been heard, but not by the one you sought. Oh sweetie, no. Your greed tainted your request. The lust that moved you to me became sulfur and bequeathed entities for whom the acrid essence of your being is a delicious treat. You have tempted the one with whom I’ve made my pact; he is unforgiving, petal”
I felt my guts sink into oblivion. I tried moving, to no avail. And even though my body wasn’t mine anymore, I could feel every spec of dust carried by the smoke impacting my skin, every molecule of silk, wool and cotton, all the weight of my vestments becoming ever-heavier. My ears were as open as they’ve ever been, and in the far distance, a song, an odd discordant song started to become apparent.
“Ah! there you go petal, you hear it now. Isn’t it delightful? He’s approaching, should be here any moment now.”
The music became louder, and louder, inescapable now. My eyelids had receded all the way back inside my skull, and the moisture on the white of my eyes had evaporated entire. And then I saw it. I saw what would, I saw myself. I was empty.
“Don’t fret now, sweetie. It’s almost done. You’ve seen it, it won’t be long. After all, with me, foresight is 20/20, petal.”
O.a.k (One-of-a-kind):
This line of instruments acts as my space for study and unbounded creativity. It is the continuation of my original non-serialized work, meaning, a cymbal line where anything goes.
It will most likely also act as the breeding grounds for any forthcoming new lines and designs as time moves forward, so keep your eyes open, one of these could one day become a regular act.
…SCROLL DOWN FOR IN-DEPTH VIDEO SAMPLE…
Serial# : QC2591
Dense, pungent incense aromas invaded my nostrils as I entered her maroon tent. Touches of golden shimmers, strewn hanging crystals and obscure paraphernalia adorned the candlelit smoky interior.
“Hello.. Hi, I read the add on the paper, the one claiming ‘With Zorah, foresight is 20/20’…I .. I find myself in need of your services”
Towards the shadowy back fabric wall, from behind a hanging curtain, like a serpent, a skinny arm of pale wrinkled skin, half enveloped in purple see-through cloth, revealed itself as it preceded a raspy voice.
“I am aware. I was told of your visit by the music, don’t you hear it dear?…Oh! But you, you carry a heavy aura around you, a tumultuous one. I see much shame seeping out. Why wasn’t that sung by the tether?..mhmm, highly unusual. Sit down, Hank”
She knew my name, I didn’t question it. Without volition, as if moved by the will of the air around me, I sat down on the cushion pile in front of her ground-level table. The air was thicker around it. She finished exposing herself from behind the hanging curtains as she approached her place at the table. Her face, it was perplexing, it didn’t look to match the rest of her decrepit body. She was young looking from the chin up, rosy, sensuous, smooth, attractive. But her body appeared to be closer to the grave than the world of the living. She was wrapped in many layers of purple and black cloth that at points allowed the soft light to permeate and give me a glimpse of her leathery, bony structure. And atop her greyed hair, a silver pendant encasing a translucent pink gem.
She sat right in front, and as she did, everything around me seemed to had become darker, as if the light had been sucked out of the whole tent, except for the space between us, now clearer than ever. I was mute.
“Petal, you have come to me hoping for a lifeline. You wanted to know her heart. Another chance perhaps? You wanted certainty, you needed a truth untold; and a prayer hung upon fate’s lattice asking for a favor. But the tether is mysterious and its tendrils vibrate and sing all throughout the cosmos. Your music has been heard, but not by the one you sought. Oh sweetie, no. Your greed tainted your request. The lust that moved you to me became sulfur and bequeathed entities for whom the acrid essence of your being is a delicious treat. You have tempted the one with whom I’ve made my pact; he is unforgiving, petal”
I felt my guts sink into oblivion. I tried moving, to no avail. And even though my body wasn’t mine anymore, I could feel every spec of dust carried by the smoke impacting my skin, every molecule of silk, wool and cotton, all the weight of my vestments becoming ever-heavier. My ears were as open as they’ve ever been, and in the far distance, a song, an odd discordant song started to become apparent.
“Ah! there you go petal, you hear it now. Isn’t it delightful? He’s approaching, should be here any moment now.”
The music became louder, and louder, inescapable now. My eyelids had receded all the way back inside my skull, and the moisture on the white of my eyes had evaporated entire. And then I saw it. I saw what would, I saw myself. I was empty.
“Don’t fret now, sweetie. It’s almost done. You’ve seen it, it won’t be long. After all, with me, foresight is 20/20, petal.”
O.a.k (One-of-a-kind):
This line of instruments acts as my space for study and unbounded creativity. It is the continuation of my original non-serialized work, meaning, a cymbal line where anything goes.
It will most likely also act as the breeding grounds for any forthcoming new lines and designs as time moves forward, so keep your eyes open, one of these could one day become a regular act.
…SCROLL DOWN FOR IN-DEPTH VIDEO SAMPLE…
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