THE SHOW
You place your ticket in the red velvet hand of the Squad King. He examines it with his pearl encrusted lorgnette, nods acceptance, and allows you to pass through the silk curtains of no discernible color. The spillway confronting you is domed above and flanked by a neat squadron of folding chairs. You seat yourself on the chair nearest at hand. The Squad King enters. He swirls his cape away and bows to the spillway, ignoring you with a thoroughness so deep that you begin to doubt your own existence.
‘Elements of Power, Force of The One, I beseech you to show yourself,’ the Squad King calls, gazing at the top of the spillway, arms spread wide.
You, hardly daring to breathe, stare at the dark something up there beginning to writhe slowly at the top of the spillway.
‘Come down. Come down, Keeper of Knowledge, Dancer of Dreams,’ the Squad King pleads.
The writhing lump slides down the spillway, unfolds to length, and lunges past the Squad King directly at you.
There she is. You die.
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