22 The Living Tapestry
A fairy queen weaves her life into a tapestry
It seemed to trap the light & reflect it back in a glorious rainbow
The room contained a vast loom upon which hung a tapestry as big as a carpet, hand knotted in scrumptious colours that seemed to trap the light and reflect it back in a glorious rainbow.
There were shades of crimson, carmine, vermilion, scarlet and cerise; blues from sky to sea; greens dark as swamp cypress at midnight, bright as a spring morn. Yellows of liquid sunshine bled into tawny amber and sunset orange. Royal purple, mauve, puce and fuchsia jostled russet, sepia and sombre ochre. Veins of copper, bronze, silver and gold marbled voluptuous violets, inky indigos and whites, pale as moonshine.
A recollection of London in Bess's tapestry
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Jack felt the tapestry come alive. It had been waiting to erupt like a volcano, or a solar flare from the face of the sun. Like staring into the sun, with each blink streams of pure colour flooded Jack’s mind, before fizzing into the ether. He felt the whole building shake as the eruption became stronger. Then, just as quick, it died away.
Jack knew it was not over. The tapestry had only paused to gather its strength. It came in a brilliant explosion of living light that left hair standing on end and sparks crackling from fingertips. He knew what was coming. He wanted to run. Nowhere was safe from the avalanche. A crazy rainbow, bouncing from floor to ceiling, wall to wall, sparking and spluttering white hot with every collision, came ricocheting down the hall for him, Ken and Catherine.
Jack Hughes & Thomas the Rhymer
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