“Why does it have to be pink, Murdoc!?” shouts straw hat wearing Noodle up to her cult leader who’s also the bassist in her band. “The obelisk I mean!” She points toward it but Murdoc doesn’t see this, still training his binoculars on the pool next door and its own bathing beauty of a person. Blue Moon, I mean Blue Flower… ahem, I mean *Moon Flower*, leader of her own cult as it turns out. Who has her own similarly size obelisk already painted blue, several in fact. From her angle, Noodle hasn’t seen this since it lies in the future. She’s only started her study as scholar of the cult, with the most important book still unread at her pink painted feet. “Masks.”
“Hurry up, 2-D! Why isn’t it finished already!” Murdoc barks down in the present, prying his eyes away from his target and toward another one. Pink vs. blue, then, just like with the battles of the sexes made famous in that 70’s tennis match between Billy Jean King and Bobby Riggs at the Possum Pouch Astro Dome in Arkansaw Texas. Substituting one for the other. Doesn’t have to be that way. Noodle knows.
Library eyes? Not quite yet.
Sunklands 