searching

Red, yellow, blue, he thinks. Is this *us* again somehow?

And across the street: same colors in a row. Right order according to their houses, even. He peers through the window.

Someone shooting up. Grim town.

Nope. Not here either.

There was just a lot of f-cking places Jacob I. could be.

He decides to retreat back to the safety of his Yellow House and try again tomorrow. Too dangerous at night.

Oh no. He’s lost again.

Is that the burning barrel from the night before? He’s unsure.

A scream from the shack down the plank walkway.

Red and blue glasses thrown through a window. He’s close! But so dangerous here. He senses it all around. Maybe he should put on his blue eye again — look tougher. Or crazier may be good too.

Totally lost. “Shoo cat. Ain’t got time for you.”

But the boney feline persisted. “RreeRRW!” it said. That translates to “follow ME!” in cat language.

Then, gazing at Earie’s turned face, it changed and stood up on two legs. “Blue red,” Broken Heart spoke with an eerie, child-like voice. “Blue red blue red blue red.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Gaston, Uncategorized

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