Lycia

at the Rat
by Angela Dauthi

The stage was dark and filled with smoke. The only lights were from behind, making the two figures on stage into silhouettes. Slow rumbling drifted from the speakers and over the crowd, half of whom looked confused and/or bored, while the other half seemed to be floating along on the Gothic ambience of Lycia. After several minutes, it became clear that this was not a stage show, this was purely about the music. At this point, some started to leave. I simply sat on the floor and closed my eyes. Vast waves of eerie sound washed over me, and although it was very minor, moody, and slow, I felt it to be rather sensual. I began to daydream vividly, picturing a forest, two lovers, a cold spring morning. No, I won’t go into any more detail. The stage stayed dark, the music kept flowing, the crowd kept dreaming. Some seemed off in a trance, while others looked as if they’d passed out. When the show ended, it was like waking up after a nap. The lights came on, we were stretched out on the concrete floor, and a very large man was telling us we had to leave. It was an appropriate ending to a surreal mental picture show.