The Feast I
A 500 words microfiction first part: Where are the guests?
I felt a feverish in the air this morning. The sun had risen early and the evening would last longer before succumbing to the starry night. At 8 years old, I wouldn’t get much involved in the preparations and had my day off. The ceremony would be magnificent and the meal sumptuous.
Everyone was already standing, setting up the long glass tables under the bushy trees and consulting the instructions. Uniformed waiters lined the tables with flowers and fruits next to the plates, cutlery and glasses.
Groups of people soon gathered around pedestal tables garnished with fruits and drinks, greeting each other, chatting joyously.
Gradually the crowd grew larger in its colorful ceremonial garments. My parents, separately, had been introducing the guests to each other, going through the different groups.
The good smells from the kitchen were carried by the breeze, stirring the foliage. Everyone was waiting, many discreetly peeking at their watches or their phones. Once in a while, some were scanning the sky. Discomfort was growing as the sun swung to its zenith laze on this long afternoon.
Finally my father raised his hand to signal the headwaiter, Mrs. Noguera, to launch the service.
The tables had been cleared and cleaned, the guests had deserted the park as the sun set behind the trees, over there, to the west. An atmosphere of twilight obscured the details. I sat under a table to taste the calm and magical atmosphere that pervaded the park.
I saw my reflection against the glowing sky as I looked up at the table that sheltered me like a glass ceiling. I knelt down to touch it, surprised to see my hand going through the transparence. Standing up, my upper half emerged in another world as if I was standing on the bed of a shallow lake. I then climbed up on what was the table, getting my legs and feet up. I could still see the grass under the table as aquatic vegetation through the transparence. The air was clearer and more transparent. I felt cleaner, lighter and more awake. I entered a new world with beautiful colors, the vegetation shined like after the rain. I caught the eye of a stranger, feeling I knew him yet, benevolence emanated from him. Welcome home Naria. Did he mistake me for someone else? He heard my thoughts. This is your true name, Naria. Why didn’t you come to the feast ? May be we missed the time, time is foreign to us. Did we voice? It is difficult for us to go lower but you found the way. Come.
He lead me to tables full of beautiful and smelly fruits and invited me to choose anything. I was thrilled and oblivious.
Sometimes I feel nostalgia about the former world, remembering how they launched a feast without asking strangers how to organize the meeting, assuming they could proceed like they did before. They just didn’t know that the world would never be the same again.
Here the second part:
