Apotheosis

Incongruent with the extraordinary scene unfolding, a grasping cold vies forlornly for attention, biting the skin. From above, a heatlessly incandescent orb crowns a head unaware of time or space. The head, whose earthly senses had faded without pause over the previous hour, relapses momentarily to experience a potent ethereal scent, though not around the nostrils but the ears. Ears which are united in a union of dysfunction, detecting merely the faintest vibration in an atmosphere of an impossibly low temperature.

As had been agreed, there are no witnesses. The sole pair of eyes that may have performed such a role are closed in a manner between restful sleep and early death. To one side of motionless eyelids, a dichromatic room offers a dance of duality. As above, a pulsating sepia circles its richer source, the canary-gold orb. So below, roughly refracting around the neck, begins its sinister partner dressed in a caustic stone, from which the grasping cold lurches.

A mirror placed opposite interprets this silent dance in its own inimitable way. Circular and fittingly lacking the dignity of a frame, the unhealthy fingerprinted blemishes around its circumference provide evidence of its recent, seemingly vague, placement against the autumn-oak veneer of a characterless fire door; the angle of the glass fit to mimic the levitated body from masculine jaw to naked knee only.