Posted by David Pierce on September 19, 1999 at 21:46:46:
Doors open, walls shift, the furniture scuttles away at my approach; the flagstone-curriers rearrange and lead me foundation-to-attic through lengths and breadths of the manse. The stout but ill-fitting cellar door does not contain the chifes to which it is bolted; three leaps carry me past but odor lingers -- I dare not uncover my nose. Other doors open beside and before me to closets and kitchens, bathrooms, dens, nooks, patios, parapets, starplats, dormers, cabins and capsules. A paper door in a narrow alcove slides aside for my passage up steps to galleries, wings, mazes of halls, bright sitting rooms, a room of feruwts-players tumbling out the wide double entry on stacks of krajhaec sponges, oval water closets, saunas, a dim library, a doorless room completely black and menacing, lavender boudoirs with elegant balconies, vidphone booths, and dispensers of hot flavored inspirational ice. The attic door swells with yellow light and flies open. Keen attention pours forth and pins me to the corridor wall; the voice of the attic says, "Enter properly. Drop the conceits! And don't put words in my mouth!" The light disengages; I slide to the floor. "Willem, it's me, David, accepting your invitation! My god - is that really you? The spangles of your comporture amaze me with the range of their modifications. No matter, I'm coming up! I've plundered a crypt to bring you a crazy-box: test it now and see if you approve."