The buzzer buzzed and Jasmine pressed a button to admit her visitor
The followers followed, gaining entry through the expanding chain of acceptance
The waiter waited, releasing an apprehensive breath before the onslaught
The mixer mixed, a gathering rhythm beseeching all comers to partake in this turmoil
The revellers revelled and Jasmine pressed her palm to her temple to confirm her growing disconcertion
The crashers crashed, pouring their strangeness into the welcoming throng
The players played, these ancient hunters endangering with their demands
The grandstanders stood, beckoning the most timid to appear from the shadows
The wallflowers flowered, liberal fluids opening their organs to their shame
These intruders intruded and Jasmine pressed by inaction permitted time to tick past her comprehension
The dimmers dimmed, a signal to the brain that it must oblige the night’s habitual intention
The breakers broke, as suddenly as they arrived acknowledging nothing
The drifters drifted, softly through the open doors giving leave for silence to take their place
The cleaners cleaned, resetting the tired minutia to their accustomed reality
The shutters shut and Jasmine alone pressed herself into the cushion denying further echoes of sensation to gain entrance to her conscious mind
EDITOR’S NOTE: This poem was selected from entries submitted to our Creative Challenge Series #10: First Sentences, which required that the first sentence in the text must be used as given.
