She enters the room yet she never seen the entrance. She has never been outside or seen the doors which lead into it. It is as if she’s not coming from the outside but just happens to be there right in the moment.
She has been there several times now. Maybe more, she never counts. Though, it always feels like being there for the first time. The sight of the room keeps her stunned every time she’s there. It allures her for the sight in front of her is grandiose and dream-like. Or perhaps she’s actually dreaming?
It is like a atrium of a grand hotel. The ceiling is several meters high with low saturation stained glasses. The railings of the second and third storeys of the building and so on are visible. There is front desk in front of her. It was unmanned like the hotel is abandoned.
The interior is made of crystals. Or diamonds? She doesn’t know. It is like she is surrounded by light. Its flooring which usually made of hardwood or carpet is made of crystals. It reflects the light which has been reflected already by its walls and columns which are nothing but crystals.
All the reflected lights come by the ceiling. Its combination between another crystal and glass lets the lights through so it can get in and jumps to one surface to another as it’s reflected again and again. The lights come through stained glass gives away reflections of pinks and blues. Gentle pink like cotton candy, almost pale, near transparent but she’s aware of its light touch of pink. And blue between Cerulean …or is it Cobalt? The gentle touch of purple it contains blurring the distinction between the two of them.
She doesn’t do anything when she’s there, not even stepping closer. She only sits or stands still, witnessing how the lights play, how the pink and blue dance, how clear the crystal it seems like she can see through the other room. But she doesn’t want to. That only foyer feels just right and enough.
All those scenery happen in her head in just a blink of eye.
Or in fact, she doesn’t even blink. She just closes her eyes,
as their lips meet,
She cannot remember what did she feels or what did she sees years ago. She can only be sure it was not this bewitching room that she brought herself into.