Prelude - John

Uh.. yeah. It's..umm.. wild. - John replied, shifting awkwardly. He was not limber enough to keep sitting in the lotus for long. Or on his knees.

While initially incredibly skeptical of the their glorious leader slow pivot from motivational speaking to mystical rituals, some of the tricks the man showed or performed lately have completely stumped John, with his inability to understand exactly how they were done. He tried asking Malcolm (who now insisted everyone called him Red), but all he got in return were some pseudo wise man quotes or questions back, like "How do YOU think I've done it?"

For this particular ritual, Red insisted that they all buy a set of white robes. "We must ensure that maximum purity of thought and matter" - he said. This particular ritual was supposed to open the gates to some other realm of happiness and wealth and invite those things in (side them). All the explanations sounded the same - like some wordy shallow mumbo-jumbo. But Tish seemed to be into it. I should talk to her again, maybe try to convince her to quit this circus. - John thought to himself, awaiting the arrival of their knock-off guru.

Say, Tish.. Do you want to get a bit after this? You know, check our newfound wells of personal power and luck?

Everyone took each other's hands, and began focusing intently on the center of the of pentagram, where Red sat proudly, his book in front of him.

Guess this is it. - John smiled at Tish, and she nodded, excited. The rest of the group had these intense looks on their faces, incredibly focused. Then everyone began their chanting - multiple phrases in Latin, that Red made them learn and practice. At first only one person recited the verses, then the second joined in, then the third. John was the last.

There was something beautiful about it, like when a capella singers harmonize. His words rung true, but his focus was on her. The soft, warm palm of her hand. Her voice, a little husky and melodic, in a blues kind of way. In this singular moment, she was perfect.