Transparent gelatinous pills

Transparent gelatinous pills are laid out in offset columns and rows on a low glass table framed with deep gilt carving. Silver driftwood legs press naturally into the bald green carpet. Their touch is too real and too fine. Visions would not have mass. Each pill catches varied colours from the stained carpet across the daylit spectrum of turbid Adriatic seawater lit in the afternoon dim by table lamps moved to the floor. The colours shimmer through the grid of pills as you approach them, wavering to and fro, idly bound between the dull gold walls. You sit in front of them in a golden wing chair. Your posture is supple and expectant. You wait. You steel your neck and eyes against the decay afternoons promote. You sit still. You look long and deep within the frame and the bilious greens and endless virid blues loll and transpose in waves across the mosaic. You check your head is still and the apartment sways. The cooling tea you set on your knees drifts within the walls of the mug and you stretch your sticking toes across the dry driftwood to feel the fabric prickle against it. Your feet wander through the mosaic, toward the bathroom door.