This is based on my best friend Lady A, and I, Lady H. Something about experiencing things that set you out, mark you, as the weird ones, the outside walkers, the odd balls, the strangers.To be fair, my sister, Lady T, said it was a bit typical- waiting out in the darkness/rain with an umbrella, with some hidden connections to the party inside. Hehe I guess it is. And if it were really Lady A and I, I doubt we would have just paced around outside, cuz we feel we don’t belong there. we would have gone in and rocked it, taking all the dazzle and sparkle, with our extremely cool coocoo nutty crazyness. hehe Oh and, just realized that almost every clinic in Malaysia i’ve seen seems to have a restaurant of a certain class next to it. 😉
There’s a party in the Soshkan, an elegant cultured stylish class of a dinner. A lady in red, and hats, lots of them, formal, un-wacky things. Flowers, real ones, and ancient inherited glass plates, and waiters in black and white, and trays and trays of indescribable expensive not-so-tasty delicacies. And tasty expensive eatables, as well, lined in glory on green-clothed tables. There are umbrellas- strange tall exotic things fit for royalty, and perhaps commonly used only thousands of miles frm the Soshkan. There’s life, tonight, in that lit hall, life of an exciting beautiful kind. An air, a smoky breeze, of something is wafting through it all, of all sorts of sparkling rainbow colours. It is of a class, not hurtfully snobbish, in the style of holleewood silly flicks, nor would it be lacking in anyway to some random king who just might step in for a glass or two of spicy sweet bitter sour mango juice. it is almost perfect.
Out in the darkness, is where they stand. Hidden in the grey smokey billowing glitter, that swamps the neighborhood. There lies an invitation card, hooked neatly to a bridge a few streets down, and covered in orange ribbons. Maybe it was the orange ribbons. Or the way the grey awful glumpy cloud flitted around the light hungrily. Staying away, repelled, yet coming back, stronger than before, swaying, thrusting, threatening, laughing, at the glittery green smokey cheer, waiting for its time. They weren’t going in, these two. These ladies, A and H. There were monsters, beings, creatures, strange ones, things that needed to be contained, and kept away, and protected. Gibbering ones, glithering ones, muthering sparks, Ingeens, knottys, cubheads, anklets, tissue paper dragons. Slithering around in the shining dark.
They, the ladies, stood out in the grey mass, outsiders of this place. Outside of a world. Of hair and scarfs always in place and style, regardless of gender, no breaking random things, or walking into glass walls, or punch bowls head first. Or garbage can knock-over contests. No bumping or bashing or burping or baffling or squirming. Or goggling or gibbering or jabbering or nuttiness-ing.
They are warriors, you see.
update: there is a picture with this, but i keep facing technical stuff 🙂 ah well ill add it on later.