The soul that slumbers is that which we speak of in this moment.

The soul that has not yet awakened lying in the closet sleeping...sleeping.

The party favors are set out and the aroma of food wafts all the way down the street, luring the guests to attend their festivities, ignorant of the serene spirit sleeping in their closet.

They turn up the music to a boisterous volume and hang every decoration imaginable across the house. Still it sleeps.

Guests start to dribble into the house like warm, rich chocolate falling off of a fondue fountain.

Look, now she wakes.