“I always knew it would end in MO. Or AR.”
“Both in one,” the person across from me — somewhere — answered, a person, a woman, only wishing to be known as Wilson. I can’t even see her face…
“Photo-novels 1-50 unfolding before our eyes. 49 now. That means we’re in Wilson (City)… Wilson.”
“Indeed.” Then I saw at least an eye. Winking. Through a kind of fog that represents irreality; the veil. Coming into focus, though. Sloowly. Now an eyebrow, now a kind of nose or at least half of one… a nostril. Hair now, the bottom of. Looks like it’s flipped. The ear now. Whole face coming into focus across from me, top of a tie… a suit. Accelerating…..
Wheeler of course. Wheeler Wilson. Like I didn’t know that when we started.
A game appears before us, winnable for either X or O. The question becomes: who started? Who’s…
… on first? TBC



