Scenario; Evangeline has had a visitor, a young man named Tyran. He has come to attend to the garden of the mansion. Tyran has had a bewildering effect upon her. He causes her to faint:

I did know, while placing tea into the teapot, that I was seeking an excuse to wander into the garden and provide tea for who was the day's shining to me. My providing him liquid as sustenance was symbolic of my applause before natural art. Yes, it was. The art whose unfathomable truth was acting as an intoxicant and soon would devour me, if it had not done so already. I would become as a sound, as a movement in the symphony which contained his thoughts. I would entwine around those thoughts of woman and exist there as perpetual love, because beautiful thoughts conceived in he whom is made from beauty can never die. Music upon the leaves and the trees and grass whose existence is free of all humankind's making. To be of that which is forever, forever and ever...

I felt the warmth of the water against my lips and I took its taste into my mouth. I gazed into its steam and I began to visualize the same frenzied and untethered quality which had so entranced me following my late evening conversation with Stephen Lewis and while I had peered deeply into the paintings. I knew that I was becoming of that very same making, in that otherworldly power and authority and that my life had been one of conjecture, of meaningless duration and whose only peaks had been the music, the art, amidst the scenic paradise I had been able to perceive a mere fraction of. My transfiguration into perpetuity was beyond the easeful beginning and soon, I would be unable to cope with its enormity in this, my state of being...

I ran my fingers upon the rim of the teacup and I wanted to see the clouds and the rain. I wanted to run as an infant in the most splendid unknowing and while in my passage, grow quickly and thence be one with this most devastating pleasure, soon to transfigure my body into perpetual dream sleep of unhuman ecstasy...

My tray was complete and in the glass I would place a red rose. I would place my blood and the music of the cosmos upon its petals. I would give this to him and I already knew that he was waiting. He was standing by the fountain again and watching for me through the colored rainbow of its spray...

I have to tell you that the effect upon me of this introduction into my life was of an unchartered force, but I was whom I had been no longer. I could know that I did love this boy even though I was transfigured. In my rebirth I had become of the air which can never be hurt, which contains no broken heart nor mind, the furor as it convulses toward calm. I could be anything and everything. I, to be sustenance amidst the tears of rain, the flight of butterflies and the bees, the lavendar plumes...

***

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This extract was written by the author, David Mario Callan.

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