“I was experimented on.”
“Your mother should have never gotten involved.”
“No.”
painting the Azure Door
Daily Archives: April 14, 2023
00370608
He is greeted in Heaven by the Man in the Middle, the Man About Time, some say. Just that damn important.
The knowledge and power of the center of it all, Fife to some, was drying up. Time to heal. Time to drive the Chevy to the levee, or at least a Dodge. Man About Time was waiting. On his heels drunk.
June 14, 2012 – the pond at Fife’s Grove Park. It has since been reconstructed.
The fated journey actually started here In Real Life, in the shadow of Pink Peak and exactly on the perimeter of the encompassing 1 square mile pink circle I’ve put around it. Shine is the place of the drinks. Brookshine, let’s say, a portmanteau of sorts, and with the trailhead of perhaps now inaccessible — because of the poison ivy and all — Mystery Gorge just beyond.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/19/00320507/
Once she was Alysha. He sighs, thinking of his former girlfriend, like if Thelma Lou left Barney for Sherriff Andy Taylor, attracted to the shine of the bigger badge. Another King over Bishop (or Rook) situation, then. Or a King’s Bishop anyhoot.
note: Throne House on the other side of Blue Mtn. from Pink Peak (place of Turtle Head) on this map my actually be Tyrone. Texas Pete. Gonna play with that.
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/04/20/00320509/
“*Miss* Ouri,” Man About Time dutifully wanted to say but held his almost always mild tongue. No need to bring Texas Pete into this, his mama always said about verbal acidities. She trained him well; he absorbed everything he could from her. Poor Mama, he lamented. Hanging with the angels now.
And that’s about the last we see of Man About Time until now, speaking time-wise.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0608, 0609, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, Red Hill
00370607
Blue Mountain from basically the exact opposite direction pictured in post 00370515 of the last section. Yes, as predicted I have moved my hiking emphasis to the back of this mountain now to escape the hotter temperatures and emergence of poison ivy, etc.
Evidence of human activity in the area. Or something else.
The highlight of the day had to be an abandoned house filled with cryptic graffiti. Like multiple warnings on the outer walls about it being a trap. I did not venture too far inside because of this. Thanks!
Question marks abound about the place.
“‘Abandoned’ too,” with 22222… on a door frame.
Upstairs: a throne?
He’s here. Who’s *he*?
After exiting, outdoor sounds like babbling brooks seem sweeter.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0607, Blue Mountain
00370606
Boy could he think now (!). He knew to steal the grasshopper green vehicle parked behind the bar; started it up like he was testing the engine or sumtin and just drove it through the wall outta there. Sally gasped at this and then began smiling as she stared at the hole and the litter of bricks and mortar, heard the truck zoom down the dirt road outside toward the beginning of the trail. Barrier, PHEH. He knew better now. 1 million was a small price for what he understood. He could take this lime colored thing and drive it all the way to Heaven or Hell, his choice. Because *nothing* was real here.
He asked the handy bluetooth to play the entirety of the Cardiacs’ double album “Sing to God” as he continued into the great beyond. The greatest album he’d never hear otherwise because of the ears and all. Now it didn’t matter.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0606, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West
Man in
“See you’re back to exploring Nautilus,” said Sally the bartender, part of the group mind.
“I am.”
“See you’re back to red and yellow. Not all black. Stay that way. Reno,” she warned.
“I remember.”
“Don’t bring it back.”
“No.”
“Soo, what you doing in *these* parts (of Nautilus)?”
“Welll.” He scratches one of his ears with this, grateful to have them trimmed again. Cost him Reno but it gained him more, all of Nevada in essence. Middletown, or at least future access to. “I was going to hike the trails of Quirrola Forest but it seems I’m blocked from access.”
“Go down a bit,” suggested Sally. “Toward the coast. Go in from the east. No ban lines from that direction. 1/2 of the sim is banned. Up here; down that road. That where you came from?”
“Yeah. So from the east. I guess this would be from the south. And over 1/2way up, like you said.”
“Yes.”
“Well thanks. I guess I’ll be on my way.”
“Hold on,” and she poured him a drink she already had 1/2 made. Grasshopper, extra kick. Kick-ass kick. “Get this in you before you go. It’ll help you think. You’ll be pondering Middletown thoughts as quick as you can say $499,000.”
Newt wondered if that would be the ultimate cost but he took the drink and starting swigging it anyway. 2 gulps and gone. He’d done a lot of drinking in the Old West, the wild times. Had to chug fast or else someone else would for you. And that someone else usually could make you dead in no time too.
“Another?” spoke Sally, seeing the empty glass. “1 million, then. The population of Las Vegas.”
Dare he?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0605, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West
Sunklands 