Priestess Itfut

“Right, great explanation. But why the twist? That’s retro.”

“New is the forgotten old. You can make a new fashion out of anything that’s been forgotten.”

“That’s a th… th-th… That’s a thought.” said Max.

“Agreed. We should try it.” said Victor. “Ok, go and get made up, there’s a smart girl.”

“I’m clever with or without my makeup!” Matilda retorted and ran backstage with a happy skip.

Victor beckoned the wardrobe-mistress and whispered something in her ear, after which she disappeared.

“Right, now the rest of you talentless, retards, take a good look at yourselves and quickly assume a genius state. Go on, go on, I can see you beginning to shine already! Max, you and the other bird-brains! We need to decide on the music and effects. Time, time! We’re running out of time! Let me know as soon as Matilda is ready.”

The stage was once again a whirl of bustling preparations. After some time that as always, ‘was and was not’, Victor began giving directions.

“Right, all set! Max, where is Matilda? Ah, here she comes, all happy and radiant.”

Matilda made for an impressive sight. In addition to her turquoise colored hair, her face was covered in blue face paint and her eyes were made up so that there was no doubt, the diva was a total diva.

“Okay, come on! Come here, my darling! Turn around!”

Victor beckoned to the wardrobe-mistress, who was holding a huge pink bow, the kind those women used to wear on the backs of old-fashioned dresses.

“Just a second! We’re just going to dress you up a bit!”

Scarcely having glimpsed the bow, Matilda jumped backwards waving her hands about.

“No, no! Are you mad?“

“You don’t understand! Look at it! It’s huge, pink and beautiful!” said Victor admiring his invention. “It matches the color of your shoes. It is perfect!”

“I’m not wearing that… gaudy thing!”

“But we’re dancing the twist. Now you’ll have something to twirl!”

“It stinks! What am I, a doll?”

“Of course! You’re my living doll!”

“Stand still.” Paying no attention to the diva’s moans, the wardrobe-mistress fastened the bow to the belt just above her bottom. The other actors surrounded Matilda, trying to calm her down.

“Don’t worry Matilda, it really suits you!”

“It looks really interesting!”

“It’s fantastic!”

“Gorgeous!”

Eventually, they managed to convince her.

“Tili, sweetheart, you look very, very beautiful!” Victor said, still trying to persuade her.

“Very, super-very?”

“Yes, yes. And you’re so clever!”

“What is it you want from me now?”

“We’re having a teeny-weeny problem. We can’t decide on the special effects for the floor and walls. Nothing is quite right. Any ideas?”

Despite the fact that the diva gave the impression of being frivolous by nature, she had an extraordinary mind and saw many things from her own unique point of view, sometimes too much so.

“You don’t need any special effects. Let’s just have a mirror floor and make the walls mirrors, too. They’ll give a reflection of the whole dance group…”

“Your bow too!”

“Stop it. That was not what I meant. If everything is in mirrors, something interesting might happen.”

“Ok, we’ll try it. Max, run the transformer, we’re turning the whole stage into a mirror.”

“A… A-all of it?”

“Yup. the floor, the walls, everything. Ok, attention people, in your places!” said Victor turning to the others. “Ready? Jugglers, acrobats, go! Music, go! Cameras, let’s go!”

And at that, the previously chaotic, motley crowd suddenly came together transformed, moving smoothly and stylishly, as if the scene had been rehearsed a thousand times before. And of course, the diva was at the very center of the action, charmingly twirling her bow.

La-la, lalalala-la, lalalala-la, lalala.
If you’ve never been
To our bright city,
Never dreamed till dawn
Above the evening river,
If you have never strolled with friends
Down the vast avenues,
You have never seen
The best city in the world.
Ta-tada-tada-da!
The song sets sail, and my heart sings,
These words are about you, Moscow…[1 - Song “The Best City in the World”, music by A. Babadzhanyan, lyrics, L. Derbenev]

In that moment, all the mirrors seemed to sparkle simultaneously and Matilda, on whom the camera was focused, was lit up in a flash of bright light. She continued moving to the beat of the music as a green mist engulfed her from all sides. Dumbfounded, Matilda stopped dancing. The mist quickly dissipated but the space around her was filled with a mirage of blue sand and yellow sky. Matilda’s eyesight seemed to go dim. She was alone inside the mirage which was slowly floating right through her. She could hear music playing somewhere in the distance. Then the mirage dissolved and in its place, Matilda was surrounded by gray figures, moving about as if dancing the same dance that was being performed on the stage just moments ago. The figures were dressed in gray, shapeless, hooded robes, their faces obscure and blurred. The music faded and was replaced by a glassy chime. The figures froze and stared at Matilda perplexed. Matilda looked back at them in horror.

* * *

Emerging from their stupor, the gray figures rushed at the poor woman shouting.

“Synthetic maid! Synthetic maid!”