Daily Archives: August 16, 2020


The Man About Time supposed this was his apartment now, what with the death of Carrcassonnee. He had no one left to take care of. Collagesity was done and over with. NWES is where it’s at; The Current.

I realized that MAT was me in the future. And the past and the present, I suppose. All the colors, well, one (current). Green, I guess. Lime. Olive?

“Why did I call him Jim?” he wondered mildly from his rainbow colored couch, too big for his apartment and probably something he would be getting rid of soon (along, obviously, with the bits and pieces of Carrcassonnee’s body). He has many options. This town is big and wide if lacking depth. But, then again, the town owner, a true neighbor of a guy, is working on the subway it seems. In the meantime: road system disrupted; north cut off from south. It rang a bell too close to home. He must hit it off with this neighbor and not be a (total) stranger. Because he thinks he knows this Guy. Met him on a RR once; talked about Azure Islands. But I’ve speculated before who Guy is. I thought he was Magellen and just gell’n. I thought he was…

The phone rings. Too close to home to answer. Maybe it was under his couch? He’d find out soon enough.

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It’s really up to us what to make of this NWES City, thought Harrison Jett in the moment, staring at the canal that runs through the center of it all. Blank slate, he contemplates. Bigfoot, he ruminates. 12 or 13 seasonal victims, depending on the weather and how hard it snows and what she can get away with. But always 12/13. Better get back to the Man About Time and see how poor, sick Carrcassonnee is faring. Displaced again!


“She’s not doing well at all,” offered the Man About Time, keeping watch over the withering, alien figure of a former Collagesity ruler on her last leg. “It’s the lack of center; she’s away from her nourishing tree, her temple. Can’t we…”

“No,” spoke over Harrison Jett plainly. I realized who he might be. An amalgamation. There *must* be some reason why I dwell on all that a lot of the time. I’ve been shut out (!).

“I am who I am,” said Harrison Jett, reading my mind. Another Popeye situation. Speaking of which…


“She’s dead, Jim. What should we do with the eye?”

“Bury it,” spoke Harrison Jett bluntly again. “Wait. We’ll throw it in the canal and let it float downstream. Wait. There is no downstream.”

“Yeah, I was going to add that.”

“It’s all flowing the same way. Nowhere.”

“That’s where we are (!)”

“What a waste of a life.”

“Not waste. It’s up to us to take us somewhere.”

“Exactly what I was thinking earlier on. Before I knew how bad this was getting.”

“Well it’s over now.”

“What about the other, erm, 6 parts. Oklahoma? Olive?”

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