Still Life by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview
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Still Life
Page 91
handwriting. The castle’s walls groaned. The Projection Room flickered. A door appeared where no door had been.
William I did not speak. He simply pointed to the Treaty of Spatial Integrity, etched into the vestibule’s marble. It read:
“No text shall alter the architecture of ritual.”
Albertina sang a dissonant chord. Willem - Alexander placed an index card on the guest’s chest:
“Status: Non-Euclidean. Expulsion Required.”
Queen Maxima Furrbaby leapt down, sniffed the duffel, and knocked it into the vestibule’s oubliette; a trapdoor reserved for texts that refuse to behave.
The guest was escorted out, still murmuring about hallways that shouldn’t exist.
Oscar Pynchon lit a cigarette and whispered, “We dodged a metaphor.”