After what seemed like several trainloads of enchanted teen girls gliding down the bedeviled staircase, and a friendly encounter with a beguiling older monk resembling the younger, and a longer exchange on the sofa with an Englishman as ignorant as I was on the party theme, the wild black and oranged hostess tumbled down the stairs into the decadent candle-lit room and recognized me for what I was--the only American in the room, looking like a wet blanket in normal duds and ironically too little make-up for this crowd--what was I thinking!
I was chatted up by a Blues Brother who insisted he was a twenty-five-year-old writer and I spent a half-hour with this fifteen-year old enjoying the repartee, happy I could keep out of the wandering flood of painted people who all looked a bit lost and resurrected from the vasty deep. I'm not a lover of parties, where I usually end up talking to someone as happy as I am to endure the alcohol-induced madness from a corner.
With Rocky Horror Picture Show blasting through the darkened and ravaged building, I meandered out into the unsubdued rainfall to find the bonfire, where I expected apparitions to more naturally arise. The blaze brought me into contact with ghoulish grimaces and deathly shrouds, and I imagined? incantations of weird sisters, howls from the waving trees and prophesies from water spirits crying out from the nearby maniacal River Skeabost--"...you shall come to me..."--and I felt fingers on me and they convulsed with spectral delight of flesh to be had.
I somehow made my way to the room where I might find food and looked suspiciously upon something that looked like pumpkin pie. "Haaa-ve some pie," a whispered inducement blew into my ear, and with wide pupils staring intently at the offering, I could only mutter, "It doesn't have pig's head, does it?"
I did find the ill-fated pig sans body as I was grabbing for some gory licorice treats, and I photographed his mutilated remains out of respect for his demise and posterity.
Later, a man without his mask was looking almost normal as he ate his chili. He looked down at me and grinned weirdly: "Welcome to Skye!"