Paradise: The Entry Fee

To be deemed eligibly pure, you must leave your senses at the door.

The eyes go first, because they are the easiest. Press sure fingers firm upon yielding temples, until the wet fpp-fpp unlocks the clasps sunk deep in each socket. As you draw each sphere from between leathery lids, do not fear the resistance-- no; rather, you must smoothly increase the pull, until two wet sighs of release deposit the hard, cool balls into your palms: the crazy eight noir, the blank cue ball.

Next, you must seal your lips-- which can be achieved in several ways. First, is the most common, the most basic-- that is, a slap of duct tape across the maw. Others are more creative: crazy glue applied as balm to the lips; the needle and the thread; the skin graft. Some dispose of their lips altogether. It's very much up to you which method you prefer.

Are you seeing a trend, are you alright on your own? Smell and touch remain, and this is an opportunity for you to display your creativity; enthrall us. What morsels of originality remain in your enfeebled mind? What drive do you still have, that venomous bite of competition that wills you to crawl atop your brethren, to fight and fight and fight for every inch?  But remember in paradise, there are no bonus points.

Once you've finished, you are welcome to step inside.

But first, know this: you are in a labyrinth of corners and closed-circuit loops. To your right will lie a symphonic display of the most exquisite colours, and a feast you may not eat; to your left will be a family not your own, a warm but distant home. Can you imagine it, the colours around you, and what they might say? Can you taste it, smell the fumes of seared meats and rarest fruit forbidden? Can you hear it, the laughter and especially the loose-limbed silence? Can you feel it, can you ever know it?

Maybe it's better that way.

That being said, you may have knocked upon the wrong door; you may wish to try the one around the back. The entry fee there is not quite so high.