I felt myself forget everything, down to even who I was. Indian sex I considered leaving to find help or supplies, but the thought of what might be waiting out there stopped me. I jumped when someone knocked on my door. And I probably would have kept on caring less about “The King in Yellow” if I hadn’t overheard Melissa telling a friend that she had heard of the play before, and that she thought it was tragic that great art had been ruined by narrow-minded censors, and how much she wanted to study the fragments that were left. No one there but me could possibly have known what play it was, but a clamor of excitement went through the audience as the first people made the connection between their lines and the phrases referenced in Professor Chambers’ last lecture. What did it all mean? But stranger still is
Lost Carcosa.”
It was Cassilda’s song from Act 1, Scene 2. To them “The King in Yellow” was still fun,
