Emerging from the Aethyr
Behind the red door the management retains the right to refuse admission, but as long as you promise not to bother the cribbage club you’re fine. An informal queue call orders from zimmer frames and stools in a dark corner, as they wait for the trays of sandwiches to arrive.
Pass though. Make your way upstairs and follow the glow of the dim red bulb. Push through the door, don’t bother trying to find the handle, time and recession have taken away such things.
You’ll be greeted by a woman with a welcoming smile and a pint glass full of badges, she’ll press a free kitten into your hand in the name of shameless promotion and wave you through to a living room, the likes of which your childhood self has seen before.
Wait until you’re summoned into the next room; more doors and even less handles.
Men with beards and varied interests perform conjuring tricks with electricity in the darkness and spout academic concepts in the same breath and stride. Electricity and music bang their heads together. Casual electrocution is embraced and the heating should have been turned down. Thankfully the power doesn’t short itself again.
That was our first electrickal séance.
See you next time.