Ficlets

The light there was opalescent, like being inside a giant shell, and the floor was as smooth as pearl.

I walked further in, parting curtains of golden thread, or was that… hair?... that obscured the walls and shape of the place. The sounds of the subway, the voice of the girl faded away behind me.

“Hello?” I called out. “Anyone here?”

A low feminine laugh answered me, nearly purring, throaty in a way that made me shiver not unpleasantly. A whiff of something wild and sweet, almost salty as the sea, came to me. I followed almost blindly, now, pushing through in the direction I thought she was.

Then, suddenly, I pushed through to a cleared space. An table set low, surrounded by candles, and holding a single, golden apple was set in the center. Behind the table sprawled a velvet clad couch. Within the couch was a woman.

She was to women as that girl’s hair had been to compared to the unruly, split ended, greasy, uncombed reality of hair. Unreal. Perfect.

She eyed me. “Are you my offering?”