Category Archives: 0413

00320413

It was getting foggy again. They must be close to the library. “Who are you?” she demands from the nefarious agent before her — ‘nother one — on this 3rd of levels, with yet another door to go through to reach the absolute end. “47,” he said, still reading, which was a lie because he was 23. Woman now: no hair on the lip atall. Thanks to the drink. “Reading about you, actually.”

“Oh yeahhh?” She was trying to act tough, heard gays or lesbians tend to do that. Stereotyping, even though she is one of ’em now.

“Um, yeah,” he answered plainly back, wondering about the posturing. She adjusts and leans left. She thinks it is the right thing to do — to back down from this man who seemingly has a plan. “Panama,” he continues to follow that last sentence. “Bridge between North and South.”

“Phooeysticks,” she barked, and then actually covered her mouth, wondering where the words come from. Phooeysticks? What kind of childish utterance was that?

But then she remembers saying it, long ago. In a crib by the silver shore. She said it to her Pop.

She looks toward the end which is not quite the end. “What’s behind the curtains, Pop?” She was talking in her head to her long dead father, going on 20 years now. “Oz,” came the kind voice back. “Or Ozzie; whichever you wish, darling.” She now knew she was dreaming but couldn’t wake up still. “Go to the pulpit and see,” requested the voice again. Agent 23 remained silent and frozen, his role done for now. She proceeded forward and sat.

—–

She still held the pop in her left hand, which was the channeling device. She still heard Pop in her head. “Feel the landscape, feel the *ground*,” as the lightning struck all around the picture before her. The tree! she thought. The swamp tree, but a… tamer one. One I can actually deal with. Not the one…

She recalled the last level. Sykes.

No need to go there now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0413, Long Islands, Nautilus, Wild West

eye for an eye

Visit to the unusual “eye rock” and subsequent discussions. Lester Jackson, owner of the cornfield, wanted to name it *I* owa and town councilman Alex Bald countered with Hawk*eye*. They would fight it out later that day over a good ol’ game of Iowa chesskers, 1/2 chess and 1/2 checkers where black always moves first. Make that Hawkeye chesskers, because Alex won. Plans to move the Hawkeye Rock to his town’s square were in the works before they could say night night to each other. The next morning neighboring Taylor County and its superior moving company based in Siam was rung up. “Ringgold County here,” they started, then cut to the chase. “We need a crane.” “It’ll cost you,” came the not-so-neighborly reply, terms which later telescoped back into the equally unusual 14 year old girl and her twins.

—–

And that’s how Rose ended up in Our Second Lyfe on the Omega continent in the Tesseract House with the tailors, who are actually Taylors.

“Andy! Bee!” she joked through the door she couldn’t remember was oriented east or west on this particular day. “Come quick; he’s done!” And so they entered the bedroom for the first time in who knows how long, maybe Tuesday.

“Why do you have him tied up?” asked innocent Tealy, stuck on his one color. The more worldly, multi-hued Tillie explained it to him later.

“Oh, *that* kind of creation.”


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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0413, Iowa, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^

marina (new killer star)

He figured this was his boat since he had the keys. And the Maebaleia battle flag. Was he finally heading home, away from *here*? He needed to get off this island at least. He knew that. But where? So many ports of call on this aptly named continent of Nautilus. He might as well be a submarine and attack it from the rear. But he was a woman’s man, he recalls. He had a sister.

She let him go. She’d read in the script she was suppose to do this but he didn’t know that, not quite yet. He’d received the pink April copy that morning in the post and she’d already gotten the July blue, with white between them. He wasn’t even in-between, as if stuck on one side of a flag. At least he wasn’t sitting in back and it flapping and slapping him, like poor Zach Black, still without his Jazz Attack, also thanks to Fern. Fern was *real* smart if you didn’t get that part, that role. Because you probably couldn’t. I’d give it at least a 145 to comprehend and play accurately. Sarah I think was the actor’s name, with Jody playing Marilyn, a somewhat lesser challenge. But that was all a long time ago now. I was a different person, a mere child in comparison.

The old and white man had a task, he knew this. To get the hell out of Dodge. West might be best since East is least. Little did he know that Fern Stalin would be waiting for him there as well.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0413, Nautilus, Rim Isles, Yd Island^

back in Horsa…

She rubbed her bare arms, trying to stay warm. About time to pull out that gray fleece jacket she likes so much, she thinks. Fall is here — finally. “Oh cheer up please, Bartholomew,” she said over to her employee, her roommate at the moment. “You know, I use to be a kid, just like you. I know what you’re going through.”

“Do you?” he answered dismissively. “Do you know what it’s like to go through life as a yellow? A cartoon, even? 2 dimensional? I had to escape.”

“I’m sure your father means well. Deep down.”

“Pheh.”

“What about your manifesto? How’s that going?”

“My *treatise*,” he corrects in his nasal way.

—–

Indeed he had been working on it — hard. His sister was creating a complementary piece called “Cowabunga: Truth and Lies”. More scholarly, with proper footnotes. Bart(holomew) didn’t like footnotes; preferred a more direct approach to convey his feelings about the whole subject. His own attached treatise to the TILE Manifesto was called “Ay Carumba! I’m a Mouse!” Alysha could see right through it, having been a mouse for a while herself. Before the removal of Black. Bart didn’t really know what he was writing, although she did. And the same applied for Lisa in a lesser manner. She’d go over his newest material and make the appropriate edits after she returned from Blue Feather tonight. Very little chance that Blue Feather Douglas himself would show up again, though. Could be months, she figured. Years, even. But it was thrilling while it lasted!

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0413, Horsa^, Maebaleia/Satori

00280413

“What does it say about this place? This: MO?”

“I’m reading…

“Says here it came from a plane.”

“Ooh?” Flying plane or esoteric plane? she was pondering. Because the latter would make more sense, given what just happened here. *Exchange*. It worked.

The Boos were back.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0413, MISTY MO^^

00270413

“So as you can see, Billie, we’ve had a bit of excitement in town since you’ve been gone. But it’s all cleaned up now. Your tower scrubbed up nicely. The only thing damaged was a couple of house plants which were dying or dead anyway. And, oh yeah, this is where Kolya had his head damaged.”

“I was wondering where that happened,” she replied in her child’s voice from the chair, this youth that was not young atall. “The encounter with God.”

“We should have never erected that giant golden *cow* in the middle of town, Billie, and you know it. We have been frowned upon.”

“Claudette is there for a reason.”

“*This* reason?” Mr. Babyface questioned, wondering if the idolatry had come to this. Fire.

“God must show himself,” she reckoned. “Or else…”

“… all be damned, yeah I get it.” Mr. Babyface didn’t get it but he didn’t want to seem stupid (again!) in front of the precocious child. So prescient. I’m sure she saw all this coming and that’s why she was away at the time. And she probably also spared me, he rationalized, by organizing that rant rave by my nephew that afternoon. It was all in the book, all in the pattern. The Oracle book and/or pattern.

“How was your comedy show, by the by?” he decided to deviate.

“How was yours?” She knew it wouldn’t be as good. She had chosen the freshest act and left him with the leftovers.

“You know,” he said. “A nephew is a nephew and needs support.”

“Nepotism, yes. I enjoy a Skippy Bittman too but only as an act of an act, a step beyond; meta–.”

Skippy Bittman? “*Anyway*, I suppose you know Marion Star Harding was here as well.”

“I had a feeling.” She didn’t see this! Time was changing again, infinite becoming finite as inflammable separated from flammable. She could see the edge of the plane but not beyond. And the beyond was becoming here, plain and simple. Marion Star Harding. Not since Rose Heaven, for him and Phillip Strevor both. Maybe Phillip is around as well, she rationalized, perhaps down at the church cemetery trying to cover himself up with dirt. It would fit.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0413, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

birthday?

At 4:13 in the morning, Duncan had something. He sat in a chair in Leemington above Necrotee above Yelloo, high in the sky like (on) a ship or a plane. Pilot Tickie was around, he knew, who wasn’t a bad meanie at all, not any more. He sat with his prescient turtle staring south east. Duncan was here to talk about the turtle.

But then it wasn’t a turtle any longer. It was a lemon. With legs. And they were staring at 2.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0413, Heterocera, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

pink punk

“Did you know I have a hole in my back, Jeffrey? Do you even notice these things?”

“Let’s not argue tonight, Charlene.”

Pause. “Anyway, I guess coming here gave me an excuse to wear that hot pink dress I haven’t worn since, oh well, I suppose since I walked under that marquee in Picturetown and then glanced down the alley at skateboarding Bart Smipson. The bastard.”

“Now now, Charlene. He’s just a kid, a ragamuffin of the streets.” Smaller pause. “Plus, he’s probably dead. We’ll find out soon. Because of the next place we have to visit. Fern’s already been there. Which means you will be there. Eventually.”

“Pheh.” Charlene the Punk reached behind her shoulder and felt the hole in her back, suddenly becoming self conscious of it. She then drew her attention forward again. “And who’s this suppose to be? Me in the past I suppose — presume.”

“That’s the idea. Felicia Mae Appletree, but not the Smipsons teacher, the one who would have taught Bart most likely.”

“Pheh.”

“Instead, the child, the daughter. Maebaleia tattoo already on her back — she’s too young for that.”

“I have a tattoo of a *hole* on my back,” Charlene complained. “I don’t want to hear about some itty bitty upper back tattoo.”

“Central back.” He had walked behind the bar and checked. That’s how he knew where they needed to head next. Fern must have planted the idea in the young Charlene’s head. If this is Charlene, and it appears it is so.

“Does she *talk*?” Charlene the Punk says exasperatedly, about ready to leave if some kind of music doesn’t start soon. And no Residents this time or she’s outta here real real quick. She’s already told Jeffrey that, who assured her that’s it’s only Pink Floyd music offered here. She checks to see where his hands and fingers are, though, and notices that some remain hidden either in darkness or in clothes. She will not be entertained by the mastications of Homer; she was never one of those kids.

Boxes of donuts were rolled out on the stage. Charlene the Punk was outta here quicker than a pig with wings.

—-

“Have a seat, er, Felicia,” offered Jeffrey after the exit. 10 years younger, underaged even for him. Probably all for the best.

“Tell me about the tattoo; I dig it,” Jeffrey requests after the entertainment starts. Turns out she was one of those kids after all. She’d just forgotten what she had dug.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0413, Nautilus, Yd Island^

Swampland

It was starting to rain. She was no more closer to finding the girl than when she began. But she *was* the girl, hmph. Butterflies… that’s how she remembered. Butterflies lead down a path to the Pond of Memory. But the Mountain Lakes region is complicated, with many peaks to traverse. She was on top of one of these peaks, but Elberta didn’t know which one. Just a peak. Paradise; ecstasy.

She held tight under an eave to get out of the raindrops. Someone was going to come out of that door over there.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0413, Mountain Lake^, Omega^^

Hideaway 01

“So since Ally’s here now you can get off a little early, right?” on and off girlfriend Sep says to off and on boyfriend Seb. Sebby Cromac, who really lightened up the place when he was hired several months back. He also has a Rosehaven connection which procured him the job in the first place. More on that soon.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “Ms. Orange is still learning the drinks.” He lowers his voice now; Ally probably couldn’t hear them anyway since she’s shaking the tumbler so hard in mixing that martini for a customer soon to show up. Let’s say he or she’s in the bathroom right this moment. “She doesn’t know as much as I’d hoped with all that experience on her resume,” he continues after leaning in. “Look how long she’s been mixing that drink; and it’s a *martini*,” and with this he points behind his hand toward cheese colored Ally, who doesn’t look atall like what’s in the picture above to either Sep or Seb. In fact, he or she looks different to anyone involved. Oh, here comes the customer. Ally finally stops shaking, pours the drink.

—–

“What do you think?” she asks The Mann, who decides to call himself James for this scene. Fresh from humpback whale watching on the eastern shore of Pickle 02, he explained earlier while placing his order with the pretty, petite blonde. “Interesting,” he presently offers as graciously as possible after sipping, trying not to wince. He decides not to sip again for a while. He is a connoisseur of the liquors and knows an improperly made drink when he drinks it. Maybe he should have given more specifics on its concoction. He makes a mental note to do that at the next bar at the next island in his sea of travels.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0413, Bellisaria