Jimbo, formerly O’Jimbo, was a Pan-Z or at least Pot-D contact in town but he ran away from me when I started quizzing him about Seven. Interesting — maybe he’s just scared of the still rampant virus going on around Our First and Second Lyves, even though I turned my head while talking and made sure I sneezed into my elbow that one time.
Last I saw of him he was riding a pegasus. I stopped following…
Later on, I remembered that he had been dead for at least a year, no fear of virus needed.
I stopped again when I saw static being displayed in a store front. I got so excited my head started vibrating a bit. A change was happening.
It was all quite red and V-shaped over here in this corner of the parcel. I decided to sit for a spell on a small turf of Linden terrain poking up through the pavement to regain my bearings. The static had thrown me off. Must be a Kentucky model.
Across the way, a drunk was stumbling while a raccoon closed his or her eyes. Neither had mail to post.
Ahh, the virus itself. I could kick it like a football clean outta here, all the way to the coast, the ocean. But I decided to save my strength for something else I spied in the distance.
Ahh, Elsie. Where have you been my whole life?
But then I got slapped when I used too much Tennessee.