Yearly Archives: 2021
Paperr
“Sisters?” she contemplated the question posed by Shelley or Jennifer Lane beside her. “I suppose we have to be in a way.”
“Like Oz? You know, ‘Wicked’?”
“The play?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know the plot. Anyhow, I’m sorry I manipulated your husband into putting all those magazines around your house. We had to have a boy; that was the whole point. I’m sure you see the point now.”
“Julius,” she exclaims, staring up into the grey sky. “First born. I didn’t have a say.” *No*, she wouldn’t get over it just like that, just because she knows the reason. She was manipulated! By this… *witch* (!).
“What about Julia?” Shelley wanted to ask why *that* was allowed, at least later. Then she remembers earlier talk about astrology and the position of the Sun, Moon and Earth relative to each other. Each in its own season. The Moon and Earth had already been equated or something, the black clad, blue haired one said beside her — made the same. All they had to do now was cut the Sun down to size. Sun becomes son. Julius, cooled down by the milk and only the milk. They had to feed it through the navel day and night. It was laborsome. She may never get over being tired.
“‘Julia’ was perfect or almost so. The son, obviously: not so much, at least on the surface. But just underneath the exterior…”
“Self editing,” Shelley/Jennifer said as her lines demanded it at the time. “So what now? Is Bart(holomew) just going to wash up on the beach here, waiting for rebirth?”
“You don’t understand,” she said, looking forward beyond the cooler of Budweisers. “Julius and Julia are the same.”
“You better get back to Liz. *I* better get back to Axis-Windmill.”
She stared up. “How’s he holding up?”
“You know, it’s tough. Staring into the mirror and realizing who you are.”
“Right.” The sky lighted up and she looked away.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0606, Paper, Paper Soap+
00290605
I asked her when it would end, all these transformations.
“It will never end,” she states plainly back, finality in her voice (obviously).
—–
We were in the shack seen in back of that photo up above, Liz and me I suppose. The Loch Ness Monster could still be seen lurking in the distance. We were in a make-believe land, but not Hana Lei. A plainly stated one: Paper-Soap. I wondered what spirit Liz represented, since we are really all alive and dead at once, at least according to [delete name]. I’m starting to remember dreams a little better. It doesn’t seem that hard, and will have a chance to work on it more in 1 1/8 years. But I shouldn’t wait I can hear [delete name] say. We turn into Jennifer Lane…
“Bad juju over at the beach,” Fook Mi chef Kim Lee explained. “Bodies not washing up properly; turning black too soon; Suds and Bubbles can’t get to them in time.” Jennifer wondered how the word “black” here would affect Liz. She decides not to further this albeit interesting conversation in front of her.
The monster seems to stare back at her. Cherry branches sprout from her frizzy hair. She understands collage a lot better than us. We decide we’ll keep her around (for awhile). Caretaker for the moment Jennifer brings sushi from the bar.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0605, Paper, Paper Soap+
accident
“Was he really the King of Pizza? Axis-Windmill ponders from his booth, staring down at the cheesy triangle steaming before him. Or was he the King of *Paper*?
He takes a bite. Tastes like cardboard, he determines, upping the possibility.
I could have been much more, he thinks below his golden crown while hauling in cardboard boxes from the back. And I am.
—–
“What’s up?” Hatti demands asks. Suddenly ashamed of her face scars, she turns away, looks at the picture on the wall instead. Funny, she decides after a small debate in her head about its value. Pizza slices at the Last Supper. Lo-fi goodness.
“Gold,” he answers. “Golden crowns.”
“Cows?” Claude obviously came to mind.
“Seriously,” he replies, getting serious. “Dinah’s back.”
“The Anomaly? How?” She knew how.
“You know how.” They look at each other again.
“I’m just a simple witch. Don’t give me credit where credit isn’t due.”
“You blew up–”
“*You* blew up…” It was here that Axis-Windmill realized he was talking to himself, as in a mirror. He’d conveniently forgotten that inconvenient fact.
“Right, right. Dr. Mouse. I know.”
“He was the only one who could fix this.”
“Herbert,” he offered.
“Herbert Dune?” she replied skeptically again. “That’s you too. Can’t you remember *anything*? It’s like you’re not even trying.”
Axis-Windmill started trying. He stared over, noting the blue hair poking out of the large, black, conical hat, holes made on purpose for this, purpose. “Why is your hair sometimes blue and sometimes red?”
“You know, silly. Sometimes I’m cross, sometimes I’m not. I can edit out the cross but I have to use red. When I’m not cross: blue. I’m in a good mood tonight,” she explained about the present color.
He looks at her face scars, wondering how she got them again. He looks down at his aging hands; his own flaw lines. He thinks of his age. 60-ish. 62, 65. 60. Early 60s. 63 — that’s it. And Alysha: waiting at the other end of the 1 1/8 year stream. But still many choices to be made along the way. “About Dinah,” he decides to switch back (to earlier talk). “There’s a video I want you to see — want your thoughts on it. A witch is involved. And… pizza.”
—–
She was remembering.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0604, Paper Soap+, Soap
now ironically named fire station
“Just remember that you are water and you’ll be fine.”
“So… hot.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0603, Paper Soap+, Soap
Satin’s rule
I often dreamed of the explosion that killed Heidi Biker Chick, our former director, soon to be replaced by new director Percy Pierce. It was always the same: I was inside the bar, trying to identity her in the flames and smoke, being burned alive myself. I perish looking for her; perhaps a ceiling beam falls on me, cutting short my horror. But where am I when I wake up? Where am I *now*? (gasp) I sit up: the beam didn’t need to be pushed off me, although I lie in the same position that I died — on the floor. How did I get from my bed to the floor? Everything seemed strange.
In the dreamscape I just left, the fire kept spreading. Now: the fire station itself just next door. Ruby! They’re after Ruby. Better send in the army but, trouble is, the army started it in the first place. Me again, then, I suppose.
I get up. I finish planting the bomb underneath the table where Heidi Biker Chick would meet Hank Graphite later. I know the meeting would start at 7 o’clock sharp. Heidi: always prompt, always professional in her approach to time. 5:05 now. I set the timer for 2 hours. I walk outside, down Violin Lane, back to the depot and the train that brought me here to this brave new world. I am re-swallowed by the tunnel. I wake up for real.
I look over for Alysha but it is 1 year and 2 months too soon. Better get back to work.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0602, Paper Soap+, Soap
baby band
Clothing challenged, lawn mowing Jacobia was stuck, unable to press forward on her own.
So she decided to put on a few more clothes and join another progressive rock group, this time *not* starting with a G, or at least only the letter itself being referred to this go around. The G-Spots were born, half black, half white, all Basterds after naturally evolving into a punk band. Okay then, let’s go with The Basterds, since The Bastards is obviously taken and also the Basturds. And The Bastords doesn’t make much sense, and neither does the Bastirds. Hmmm… Bastirds.
When I spoke to Jacobia about it she said that (the name) Bastirds was silly and that they would go with G-Spots, except spell it Gee Spots, like a frisky gee cat she knew growing up in Paper-Soap. Anita (lead guitarist) agreed, and so did Stig (keyboardist) and Dirk (bassist). The band hit all the right notes, just like during good sex. After acquiring drummer Peter Sun (formerly Mitch Peterson) to complete the quintet, their first gig proper was in front of a tunnel playing to a disinterested crowd wondering why their train went missin. They would move on to bigger and better.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0601, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori, Paper Soap+, Soap
hues
“Okay, we’re definitely going to have to agree on a favorite colored tea before we get married. Here, let’s switch (*switch*).”
(*sip*) “Yuuuuck!”
“Okay, we’re definitely going to have to rethink this relationship.”
(*huff*) “Fine with me (!).”
—–
“I think you definitely said 301 East Meeting.”
“I definitely did *not*. 103 I said. I wish I would have recorded it now. I need to record everything.”
“*Anyway*, we’re here. We found each other.”
“3 hours later!”
“Aren’t… aren’t you going to drink your tea?”
“I’m not drinking that stuff.”
—–
“Annny-wayyy. The low down on the plot so far. Spill it.”
Axis-Windmill then “accidentally” sloshed some tea out while raising his own glass to his mouth. “Oooops.”
“Funny,” Percy said while watching it penetrate his duster coat sleeve, turning himself slightly green. Percy’s lone color remained red like her own untouched tea, as in controlling heart red. At least it’s not in (or on) her head. she often thinks. Speaking of which…
“You’re a funny boy,” she reinforced. “A funny funny boy.”
The green kept coming. “More than I expected!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0516, Blue Feather Sea+, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori
not quite picture perfect
I’m going to get that promotion today. I can feel it deep down in my bones.
Maybe if I stare into those psychedelic curtains long enough, someone will show up and feed me.
“Hi Angie! Ready for dinner?”
“Sure am, Miller!”
4:15. Where *is* Percy?
4:25. Where *is* he?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0515, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori
killings
“Leave?” He was incredulous. “But we just *got* here; I just settled into this place, this house. It’ll work out. Just because Clovis–”
“This is not about Clovis,” Axis-Windmill reinforced. “This is about tying up things in this here photo-novel–”
“Let me guess,” Keith B. interrupted in turn. “29 in a series of nothing.”
“Close. But we want to try anyhow… anyhoot.”
“*Alysha*” he called into the kitchen to his red headed wife making soup with a fork and spoon. “Are you hearing this?”
“I’m hearing,” she said. “But the soup is boiling… may be missing some things. Something about the electricity not working properly in this house?”
“*No*,” he stated, blowing out some air. “They want to *pull the plug* on the operations here.”
More boiling. “Ventriloquists? I told you we shouldn’t move to a town with those. Trouble, always trouble.”
Keith B. gives up until Alysha finishes her soup. He shakes his head about the matter for Axis-Windmill, who was curious. “When did you acquire a wife, old Keith B.?”
“Alysha? Met her at a fair. She’d just won a beauty contest, being the loveliest girl in all of Hooktip.”
“Hooktip?”
“Yeah, where she’s from. Where *I’m* from. She’s a childhood sweetheart as they say.” Keith B. decides to turn the tables. “And where are *you* from… German boy?” He’d heard rumors of a war, in fact 2 of ’em. Germans on one side, his side on the other. But was he American? Or…”
—–
“Papa,” Jenny called from the kitchen, making soup. Axis-Windmill was gone, having been called out. Alysha exited with him, *his* wife. Not Keith B.’s. Keith remained a bachelor because of, well, The Room and what goes on in there. Jennifer thinks it is self sex, but actually it’s (see title).
“What is it dear?”
“I have an idea about the logo on the drums. I’ve been mulling it over all day. Instead of a star, like in Cpt. America, how about a circle. A circle within a circle, like in that British air force poster up at the Seraph.”
They were back in Cass City and it was 20 years ago and their star was about to rise because of this. Ironic. Star erased, star gained. Trouble is, there were 2 of ’em and there was only Room for one.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0514, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori, Purden/Snowlands, Sansara
Sunklands 