Night life with Vairoc

I went to listen to some music tonight. A group of young men and women who called themselves Vairoc. They liked to make very rhythmic music with drums and stringed instruments. One song in particular stood out, it was about the rolling hills and valley mists. The intense rhythm caused the whole crowd, and there were a fair few, sway from side to side, like bushes gently rocked by a mountain breeze. Some tea was passed around. Visions and feelings exploded all around me when the ingredients of the tea hit my brain. Everybody was having a good time.

I don’t know if it was the tea or my own eyes that spotted Zara in the audience. Her face radiant with all the fair colours of the rainbow. Her eyes, more alive than the sun in the sky. Her smile, both beautiful and a snare; the snare I once more felt bite into my heart. I closed my eyes for just a second, when I opened them she was gone, dissolved into the crowd.

I pushed my way outside, stumbled into the cool of the night, searched for a silhouette in the distance. A shadow approached me towering over me; a long sword was drawn. I ran away, ran up the hill, ran home. Then the giant turned into a temple tower and the sword was no more than a gleaming spire in the moonlight.

The experience so frightened me, I decided now that this tea is not for me. In its substance hides both beauty and beastly, unlocked on no one’s instruction. Its effects have subsided now, gone as quickly as it came. I am writing this to remember before I forget.

Morron