The fairy who playes the synthesizer

Millions of little round suckers stuck to my skin and pulled me in. Heads of decapitated revolutionaries followed me with their eyes. Queen octopus sat at the piano smiling vaguely at her story having tangled me in to her jelly fish hair and tentacles, pulling the fresh game to her black and white alter. And this is how I met the fairy who plays the synthesiser. Within my own exhibition, one summer midnight. She had seen the piano from afar and barnacled herself on to it.