The wastelands of my mind.
“I call them the Glory Holes, Alysha, because, you see, 2 are in Glory (sim) and the 3rd is just over the line in Shining Sea. I thought you might like to see.”
“Oh Kolya, do you even know what that means?” After investigating the 3 small bodies of water a bit more, she leaves somewhat disappointed: 1/2 and 1/2. Will he ever grow up? she thinks after returning to her rotating square alone. Probably not; the holes will remain what they are and nothing more. Gathering pools for rain water.
I *think* she liked them, ponders Kolya afterwards.
“Queer dream,” states the now black Chief in his bar by the blue swamp in the southwest corner of Paper-Soap. “Say the girl’s name is Atrophia?”
“That’s what she said. Blue hair. Blue as Heaven.” The visiting Aldebaronian glanced at his wrist. 4:20? Not on *his* watch.
Black Chief looks out the door of the small bar. “Rain now. Swamp will be getting pretty damp soon. Better rev up the dehumidifier, um, Stu. That *is* your name today, isn’t it?”
Stu Umbriel, who goes by many names since that cursed birthday party about 1 month back now where bodies began to merge together in queer ways, smiles and says it is so. “Today,” he reinforced. He moves around back to crank up the moisture removal device, which he knows the ins and outs of better than Chief, being a regular moisture producer himself. In fact: better take a leak behind the bar after I roll this baby out in the middle of the room, he thinks. He glances down. This blue blue baby. Blue? Center? Just like the (stranger’s) dream.
The rain gets harder. “Yelloo!” he exclaims behind the bar, getting wetter all the time.
“Kolya,” she gasped, sensing him from far away.
There she is, the Aldebaronian A.O. thought. My perfection, my *opposite*. But what’s this? An *intruder*. Not on *my* watch.
He decides then and there to defeat this adversary to his true love’s hand, hidden in shadow behind that right hand stone in the above photo. Later he uncovers his real name: Jon Deere. “Mow him down,” he reiterates at the time. “Like corn.”
“Your… hair. It’s very… blue.”