The Wreckage of Paradise.pdf - Dice

grams and an altar with a screaming naked virgin on it, andthis “Princess” in her horned and bat-winged glory aboutto perform the sacrifice? Or maybe something that wasalien like the movie Alienswith dripping slime and insectileprotrusions and here and there a not-quite-dead victimwebbed to the wall?Inside, it was an office.Swank, but an office nonetheless. The desk was huge,made of some old dark wood that made you think of fatwhite bankers, cigars and insider-trading. The bookshelveswere glass-fronted, carefully restored antiques, but theywere just bookshelves. There were filing cabinets, too,bolted to the floor in case of choppyweather. It was reassuringlynormal until the woman behind the (tastefullydecorated, slightly cluttered) deskspunthe (classy, leatherbound)chair to face them.She looked normal.She looked absolutely stunning.It was averyweird thing, for Mitch. He’d been ready foranything, except for a tastefully coifed woman with lightbrownskin, bead jewelry and slender, graceful hands. Shelooked like a bust of Nefertiti-the kind of classy black damethat insults just roll off of, puddling embarrassingly aroundthe insulter’s feet.But at the same time, he was shaken to the core by aweand wonder. It was hard to put a finger on it, on the exactsource of his feelings. It was kind of like when he was a littlekid and he saw Star Wars. Or there had been a couple of rockconcerts-one R.E.M. show in particularwhen he’d hadthat sort of soul-stirring moment of true exhilaration.Maybe when he’d lost his virginity, too.It was as if he was looking at a masterful painting of anordinary scene. Michelangelo or Van Gogh could paintsomething normal in a way that the painting looked luminous,magical, evenwhen the scene it depicted did not. AndNazathor’s presence had that same effect. Everything aroundher was special, was seen as if for the first time, simplybecause it had the good fortune to be around her.