One flesh, one bone, one true religion

Jeff didn’t answer Vanessa’s question, although he did stare at her with a dazed expression for almost 10 seconds. He had also eaten the spiked risotto and his eyes were hugely widened but completely blank. She repeated the question and he looked hastily at his watch, clearly flustered.

“Oh yes, umm, quarter to ten.” Am I here?

“Thanks Jeff” She batted her lashes and his eyes shot to her chest as if they were iron filings and she had magnets in her nipples.

So it wasn’t that late, she had plenty of time to find the one she was looking for. Vanessa’s mind emptied again as she unconsciously tuned in to what the Chairman was saying. The words were strangely familiar, but she couldn’t quite place where she might have heard them before.

“ONE FLESH, ONE BONE, ONE TRUE RELIGION, ONE VOICE, ONE HOPE, ONE REAL DECISION.”

People were murmuring all around and Vanessa swivelled her head to gauge the audience’s reaction. Some were nodding vigorously but others were grumbling over folded arms and shaking their heads equally vigorously.

A minority even seemed to be on the verge of heckling, she realised in surprise. In the meantime, a slow but steady stream of people was milling towards a small door by the side of the stage.

Where are they going, she wondered vaguely, is there a work-group in there….at this time?!

It didn’t seem possible. A very large and untidy woman was standing by the door handing out what looked like a bundle of papers to those who passed through. Vanessa briefly strained her eyes in the woman’s direction but couldn’t for the life of her make out what was going on.

Nor did she particularly care. Something inside her was moving, shifting shape, pushing against the prison of her body, ready to make something crystalline from the ethereal substance of her imagination. It was focused on something – actually, someone – a man who was pulling her.

The shivering needle of her spirit grew firm as it strained towards him.

One Man, One Goal, One Mission

Vanessa stared into the half-full glass of mediocre white wine. Her mind slipped unnoticed to a place that might have been a million miles away, it seemed so far.

Not far enough she had mused a moment earlier.

Her posture – gracefully poised and somewhat regal, a gift fromher mother – effectively disguised the lack of attention Vanessa had actually been paying to the post-dinner speeches. Had she been paying attention, she would have noticed they were strange to say the least. A weirdly evangelical statement finally caught her attention, as a school-marmish woman warbled extra-loudly:

“ONE MAN, ONE GOAL, ONE MISSION. ONE HEART, ONE SOUL, ONE SOLUTION!”

This, it seemed, was meant to herald the arrival of someone called The Chairman. Vanessa gave a half-hearted clap as the next city slicker hit the podium. Lord, what a tedious event! She was having trouble focusing and blinked a few times. Despite having drunk only one and a half glasses of wine she was feeling distinctly hammered and couldn’t imagine why.

Vanessa could not possibly have realised that the rather bland risotto was laced with fly agaric toadstool skin, for who could have imagined such a thing occurring at a hellishly dull conference?

The Chairman was a funny colour and, now Vanessa came to think of it, there was a lot more about him besides that didn’t seem right. She gazed at the seductively large goblet and used her last remaining sober brain cells to summon up a bit of will power. I mustn’t drink any more now, have to pace myself.

Squinting back up at the podium, she tried but failed to focus her thoughts. A worrying notion then struck her:

Was it later in the day than she’d realised?

“Excuse me,” she whispered to the man sitting to her left. From his badge she had already noticed he was Jeff Lloyd, worldwide human resources director for Kentucky Fried Chicken. Vanessa was very beautiful and Jeff immediately leaned towards her, his excitement palpable.

“Do you have the time?”