Of Food and a Man

"Etherized upon a table"

He could see the rope unfolding and reaching the ground, like a huge tounge rolls out of a giant's mouth; in this case the giant was the castle. Then out of the mist, behind the red curtains of silk, a face appeared, and the slightly gestured the arms signaling something: as a policeman directs traffic. The signal was a clear sign for him to ascend the rope of his dreams (last night's dreams perhaps). He grabbed the rope in his hands, and pulled it. He was unsure of the knot up there; as if he could not trust the face. He grabed the rope, only to let it go after he realized he could not climb without the help of his feet. So he took of his boots, and stuffed them into his overcoat's pocket. He started climbing the rope.

To his surprise there was no one to recieve him on the balcony, and he had to make his way up the heavy stone's gothic-railing; breathless, he took a while to calm before finally crossing the red curtains. In the room, he was greeted by darkness, while his pupils took time to adjust to the dim candle light. Finally, he started noticing the aroma of desire inside the room.

A royal bed with veils dropped, covered with off-white sheets of silk, which shone in the candle light, harboring fruits on them. Fruits, that were scattered from one corner of the bed to the other. He saw a plaintain peeking from under the pillow, on top of which rested a water-melon - both of which pointed in the same direction of two red round tommatoes. Tommatoes, as if bowing down to the greatness of the Cucumber. The mighty, the colosus cucumber. In the back of his mind he felt that it was an arabic cucumber; unleashed from some ancient desert's fairytale. The apples were the mere spectators. And the melons seemed to had a high esteem of organizers of the show, perhaps -- they were to be thanked after every applaud, and congratulated at the end.

Noticing his pockets heavy, he realized his boots were still in there. Mind boggled with the intensity of the scenerio, and heaviness of his pockets, he gently grabbed the toe of his left boot, and slid it out, very gently and slowly, as if he did not want his coat to mind that. He repeated the same with the other boot, with the same caution, but this time his eyes catching glance of a radish, on the floor, with long green leaves, smothered togather, giving an impression of a long leather strap. His boots were destined to rest with the raddish on the same grounds.

Overwhelmed, and perhaps euphoric for no reason at all, he looked around, when a voice distracted him from the other corner of the room. He turned spontaneously, to be greeted with a smile on the face, and hear the words, "The dinner is served".