Celeste and the Magickal Powder

Danu-Child Settles at the Bottom of the Sea

One of you to heaven, the other stayed in earth.

I am watching a cloud and an angel dance. Something cosmic in front of me. The first thing is a loss of control. The second, a sense of peace. I get the feeling that no matter how this ends, all I have to do is be still and watch the lightning strike. Over and over and over.

But it isn’t enough. I want to ride the lightning. I want to be the apocalypse, the little death that kills us all! I want to be the symbol. I want to be the icon. And now that that bitch is dead, who else will rise up? Nothing could replace her: it might as well be me.

A spectre is haunting Attikon. There is no reason why - she left! And now she returns…yet she is no Lazarus. It isn’t really her. But I can’t complain. I will immerse myself in the fluid. Glistening, immaterial: I let myself be transubstantiation.

Surrender. Conclusion. The powder on the table. I inhale, fall back, and my eyes begin to lose their meaning...