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Compliment
for Elizabeth He leaned against the wall, swirled in a haze of incense smoke, and closed his eyes. The world didn't stop spinning, but it did slow down somewhat. He knew that if he opened his eyes, everyone would be dancing about in slow motion, just like that scene in The Terminator, when Schwarzenegger was stalking Linda Hamilton in the Tech Noir disco ... he suspected that if that happened, he would definitely lose consciousness and join the others slumped on the floor. Nonetheless, he took a deep breath, and opened his eyes. His vision seemed to dim in time with the heavy thumping of the bass (the music was, as always, way too loud) and either the smoke was thicker or the lights had been turned down; the room seemed like one of the pits of hell. He could just make out demonic figures capering in and out of the haze. One of them would occasionally be thrown into sharp relief as it moved under a light, seeming to leap out of obscurity, shock the senses and then fade back, giggling, into the safety of the shadows. Then - a single figure emerged from the dark nebulosity that cloaked the others. Her outline burned itself on his retinas, the stark contrast with the ill-defined shapes around her making her seem like a hallucination. She struck a pose, perfectly in time with the doom-laden thump of the music, and glanced across the room at him. For a moment, their eyes met, and he knew how a rabbit felt in the face of an oncoming semi-trailer. She seemed to realise this, gave him a wicked smile and vanished back into the smog. He couldn't remember anything after that. Nice party! |
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