Something Wicked this Way Comes

 

The smell of burning rubber. Hot and acrid, but there’s a tinge of sweetness to it as it envelops you. Suddenly it’s a incense-heavy and oddly beguiling. Nighttime and in Glastonbury grove shimmers with moonlight. You are here. Under the heavenly conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn, the only time the Black Lodge will open to you. And there’s fear, the key that opens the door, the coin of the realm. The owl screeches above and it’s there. Red curtains lead you in. Bulgari Black is the scent they all wear here. The dweller on the threshold will meet you with your own face. Here is a place the soul must pass through on its way to perfection but to meet it with less that perfect courage will bring certain annihilation.

~ by magicianoftheredroom on July 14, 2008.