Category Archives: *Second Life

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It was a momentous day. August 8. Eightyeight. The day I found out Dark Side of the Rainbow couldn’t have been created by Floyd. It was instead created by…

—–

Phillips strolled into the room, interrupting my writing. Fresh from his little house in the small woods tucked away in the tiny corner of town. He bounded toward me; clung on to my leg. I hoisted him up. Stared at his little face, his little eyes. 88 lost its grip on me. I turned back toward Your Mama and Raggy and the god dog at the center of it all. Something submerged, something surfacing, submarine-like. Must get Your Mama a ham submarine when I stop by Baker next week. For she is in Baker now. Probably for good. But I diverge…

—–

Back to your little house you go (!). Now where were we?

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lit’l gray (what to do??)

It was a momentous decision.

“How did you know?”

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man cave

“You will not be able to figure it out. The Azure Sky hides truths under its many lights. This is Science. You are Art.”

“Blue Feather, please,” she corrects her girlfriend while continuing to try out new poses.

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Eightyeight

“Maybe we should both be time traveling Blue Feather Douglas in this saga.”

“Past, present, future,” Tracy Austin agrees, wondering if she should have her baby before or after the production.

—–

The poor, pitiful sob, she thinks while staring back across the circle.

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Blue Feather

He looked down on me, always smiling, always laughing.

The Man About Town Time.

—–

I must get home…

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ruff

“And the little house beyond?”

“Phillips.”

—–

The horse leads, the horse tells.

Doors opening.

A man, a woman (sort of). A shallow grave.

So close.

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Papa

“His name was Boaz and he was a noble deer and he didn’t deserve to get shot and die.” Your Mama’s tone displayed anger and bitterness. As usual.

Channeling, thought Raggy. Always forget she can do that. He glanced over at the other deer head mounted on the far side of the fireplace. “How about the white one?”

YM closed her eyes, getting in contact with the Great Beyond again. “Viola. Boaz’s mate. Played him like a violin. Or viola I suppose, hee. But they were together at the end. That’s how they ended up here… together. Two stone with one bird.” She snorted and stared over. “Weren’t faster than a speeding bullet, you see.”

“I see,” Raggy followed quickly, trying to steer the conversation away from something that would agitate her further. “When’s the 1st gig?” he then decided to say.

“You know when it is, Raggy. You’re just trying to switch subjects.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “Tomorrow. At 3. You ready?”

Another snort, combined with a bitter chuckle. “Of course I’m ready. Are *you* ready?”

“I’m not in this one. They don’t need a jester to warm you up here.”

“Jeston the Jester,” she recited. “Remind me how that works again?”

He sits up, looks out the smoky windows at the waterfall in morning light. “Dawn’s breaking,” he said distantly with neutral, cracking voice (as usual). “You better get some sleep. Big day tomorrow.”

“Phillips coming, I know.”

Phillips coming! thought Raggy, off the hook at last.

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