107 292
Solenoid
107
when my fingers stopped
on
the
extraordinarily
vague phantom of the
ebonite switch I felt that,
for a nanosecond, I filled the
creator’s skin of splendour
and flame. I pressed and
there was light, blinding and
unbearable. It took my eyes
yet another eternity to get
used to it.
A metallic ladder was
hanging from the metal
grid. It went down towards
the tower floor in the
middle of which, however
apparently floating half way
up, there was a round ivory
object that occupied about
a quarter of the visual field.
The rest was made of the
rectangular sandstone tiles
of the floor. The object
seemed to levitate in the
tower shaft but when you
went down until you could
touch it, you saw that it was
actually supported by an
ivory metal column stuck on
what appeared now clearly:
an old complicated dental
chair with faded leather on
its head cushions, with the
drill andturbine ironcovered
in fine salt, with the front
tray full of nickelled tools.
The round piece above was
full of bulging glass disks,
like car headlights. In front,
at the height of the patient
who would have sat on the
chair, there was the round
window, like a porthole, the
one that made my house
look so much like a ship.
Its glass was covered with
a kind of a lid that also had
a cipher with way more
figures than the other one.
I didn’t try to open the
porthole for a long time,
because my entire attention