misdirection

“Good, isn’t it?” she wanted to say in her Northern accent. “Comes in bottles in this county.”

“Jasper?” she could hear him say back, which prompted in her mind: “Bling, Diamond Cave, Arkansaw. CAN.”

“Are you a witch?” he actually said, sitting on the couch before her and knowing she was the one. Miss Ouri.

Of course I’m a witch, she again thought, but decided to answer otherwise. She went with the Arkansaw story. Can saw right through it.

“Take off your dress,” he tried, figuring she was a simulacrum. “I want to see.”

But she was no pleasure bot like Tronesisia still hallucinating that cactus plant over in the library.  Her eyes were equal to each other, orange against orange. 2 + 2 adds up to 4 for her. She is rational, reasonable. “No.”

Well I tried, he thought. It was worth the effort. “Then… reveal yourself for who you really are.” It was second choice but maybe had a better chance to work.

Since she was a bot if not a pleasure one she had to obey this time.

“Satisfied?”

He was  — 1/2 and 1/2. “Where do you come from?” Trick question! “Your mama?” she played with in her head. She was from nowhere, actually. Outside *everything*.

“Chattanooga,” she decided, then ended with a weak, “choo choo,” and the appropriate pulling arm motions, like a conductor with his tooter or whistle. Yes. Exactly like a conductor. Mahler.

—–

The next thing he knew he was in bed, drink still in hand which indicated that what went on before wasn’t actually a dream. Not really. Along with the 2 orange legs of course to match the eyes.

“You had to see, ow,” she said in her mind.

He studied them later and decided they were like 2 coke bottles while he finished his drink. Evil, they were. Not Northern atall.

—–

He went back to bed and had a different dream about the dresser and their wardrobe.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0513, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

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