There is a hall whose floor is laid with jewels, and on the same night two strangers enter it from opposite doors. Each of them stops at the edge, unwilling to walk on something so beautiful, and for a moment they stand there together without knowing it.
Bands of madder, indigo, violet and gold run along the sides of this rug like rows of cut stone set into marble. They hold a pale, restless centre veined with sand, honey and yellow, a field the eye keeps wandering back into. It is a floor you would take your shoes off to cross.
