upstairs 02

Mr. Babyface was having that dream again about being submerged in lava. He wakes up.

Upside down again, he thinks. Better get some coffee on.

He pauses on his way to the tiny kitchen to reflect again on lava.

“Ichelus,” he mutters, and moves on.


Ahh. Better, he thinks, downing a fresh brew. His nipples hurt this morning for some reason. He’ll buy some of that ointment at the store later on his aunt recommended. She had the same kind of problem, but in a larger way.

He stares out the mostly transparent wall at the many windowed building just beyond. Definitely not Collagesity this morning, he ruminates. The Kidd will be there. Can’t get too caffeined up before chatting with the precocious child. Third eye she has, he remembers. All seeing most likely, like the one that use to be in Collagesity. Mr. Babyface can’t quite recall the name of the broken deity, a mere idol these days at best. Kazzkark he thinks incorrectly, but for a reason.

Nothing upstairs now. He’ll make some beans later on. Will The Kidd fulfill her promise and bring the rest of her tower to what he knows now is truly Middletown? He thinks that would be cool.

He sets his coffee cup down on the table beside Big E and heads downstairs.

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