the oasis

Allegory, mother of all dogmas, is the replacement of the seal by the hallmark, of reality by shadow; it is the falsehood of truth, and the truth of falsehood” — Eliphas Levi.

I felt the warmth suffocate, holding me instantly without hesitation in its circumscribing embrace. Perforce, I shut my eyes as my body resolved itself to the calid contretemps as if guided by a Palamedian axiom: ‘To condescend is not to descend’.

Historical fact: the estival holocaust — a mere 114 °F — consumed my body, redeemed the fleshy sarcophagus, and instantiated it of a sudden in my incended arms.

And this was just the beginning. A surreal, monotonous, unimpressive voyage down a two-lane highway followed. It was performed under the aegis of the kaleidoscopic-diaphanous canopy of clouds that hung above. Then, I arrived.

I opened the passenger door, exiting the car, and proceeded to walk in the direction I had come. The overfed clouds now hobbled in the distance migrating with the turning horizon-reel. And above, however, hovered an expansive sky, a tableau vivant of phosphorescent blue dappled by intensely brilliant-white points, piercing specks ripping through the otherwise tranquil tent of azure. Then, I chanced a falling-star and all was lost.