a fiesta of charms

...Alice, asleep...
...the day kind of moved into dusk, shadows forming against
marble floors, where words lulled in through the door sat
ajar... you’re not on that facebaby are you..? the sound of the
television then rose, an episode of The Bill she thinks as the
walls began to vanish into an opulent pyramid brown... red
gums protruding whilst Johnny Panic spoke, leather Jacket
on, the whites in the eyes bigger than most... this is where
they usually would speak, behind the daylight of periphery...
45