Metamorphoses Ch. 04

Non sei tu che m'offrivi i fiori... she sang -- "Was it not you who offered me flowers like those from your moorlands... remember those nights I stayed awake with you in your delirium... your eyes azure as a baby's... I am your sister, who once taught you the supreme truth of love..." --la sorella che un giorno v'insegnò una suprema verità d'amore!

And so, the chorus of miners reluctantly unstrapped Duncan the Scots tenor from his electric chair, so he could embrace Daphne and follow her into the cockpit of her bomber -- which proceeded, to jeers from the audience, to take off, soaring awkwardly above the stalls and up into the flies where it disappeared from sight.

Mai più ritornerai, mai più... -- "Never again will you return," mourned the male chorus from the stage, wiping their eyes as they saluted their beloved Minnie in the imaginary distance, to the accompaniment of rich harp arpeggios.

Addio mia dolce terra... addio!

Now Lucy heard Daphne's footsteps briskly trotting down the stairs, saw her grin as she unceremoniously discarded her pilot's goggles, helmet and gloves on the floor, and rushed into Lucy's arms. Their lips pressed together, passionately but briefly, before they both asked, "Are you sure about this?"

Both giggled at the irony, and both replied "Yes!" before clasping hands and -- ignoring the guard who was now panting in the throes of an ill-concealed self-administered orgasm (in honour of "real wife Sharon from Basingstoke") -- dashing out into the summer-twilit London backstreet. There stood a red telephone box, in the doorway of which grinned two women wearing white lab coats -- one large and buxom with dark frizzy hair, the other slight and slender with light blue tresses down to her shoulders. They kissed each other on the lips and beamed, as they held the door open for their new guests.

"I love you, my darling," said Daphne as, hand in hand, she and Lucy followed Gaia and Melia into the phone box.

"Together, forever -- remember?" replied Lucy.

Back in the auditorium, the chorus had taken its bows, as had Duncan the tenor, Dai the balladeering baritone, and Bambi the dumb blonde mezzo, and the audience were clamouring for Daphne. "WHERE THE FUCK IS SHE, THE STUPID CUNT?!" bellowed Henke backstage, as the audience began an indignant unison slow clap.

But Daphne was not there anymore. For as she and Lucy shut the phone box door behind them, they felt a strange whirling sensation and a yank at their hips, as if they were being pulled forward without actually going anywhere. And then they were gone.

And as they opened the door into their new world, Daphne sang:

"Addio mia dolce terra. | Farewell, sweet Earth.

I am Daphne,

la sorella che v'insegnò una suprema verità. | your sister who taught you the supreme truth.

Nehmt mich als Zeichen einziger Liebe: | Accept me as a sign of eternal love:

I she who has been transformed."

And Lucy smiled, as she had never smiled before.

And they saw that it was good.

CALA IL SIPARIO LENTAMENTE.