From the famed Nepenthe Gate at the southern edge of Rosehaven, Princess Merry Gouldbusk stared out at the void separating her almost-queedom and
Caledon Caledonia. She thought about the rising water that would result in the re-merger. Tomorrow! “2 meters, Sandy. What harm could be done? I can re-terraform the little coastline that might be flooded.”
“None atall, my dear,” spoke Herbert Dune behind her, ignoring the botched name again. I’m still under contract! the actor screamed in his mind, however. *Herbert*. Herbert Dune. Dummkopf.
The actor playing Merry Gouldbusk realized her gaff. “Oh, let me start again on that.” She turned toward the camera. “Can I just start again?” Her face was turning red.
“Well. I guess we’ll *have* to now,” groused Sandy, thinking the name could have been voiced over in post-production later on, along with a good number of other mistakes made by his co-star only in the last several days. But not now. And time was short… the snow was almost gone! But he must *affect* love again. Because Herbert Dune truly loves his soon-to-be Queen. The actor playing Herbert Dune despises the actor playing Merry Gouldbusk, though: one Lilly Frame, fresh off the bus from Ontario. That was a little disguised fact.
Director Eraserhead Man sets the scene again.
Cameraman Blinky was ready to roll. “And… action!”
“2 meters, Sandy… oops!”
They sat in the attic of House Greenup with its transparent roof, set up several weeks back on the edge of Cloudmont near the center of the Snowlands part of Sansara, Second Lyfe’s oldest continent.
“It’s a lovely view, Broken Heart.”
Jacob I. paused and looked over at his friend. His only true friend. “Why did you say, thank you? Are you claiming to create all this beauty?”
“No. I’m saying thank you for not calling me Jackie. My paper days are over. I am so sober now that I cannot even change into my animal form. I remain a tiny.” He repositions himself in the arm chair. “Fun fact, Jacob I.: the famous circus dwarf Charles Stratton, better known as General Tom Thumb, had a specially adapted home in tiny Thimble Islands, Connecticut where he lived with his dwarf wife Lavina. A specially designed thimble can be made for the thumb. Additionally, the word thimble and thumb have a common linguistic origin. Why would this man made famous by P.T. Barnum choose these particular islands to live? Yet another circus gimmick or trick? Or was there some deeper reason tied to his core being. Was he tapping into, I don’t know, a higher flow?”
Jacob I. ponders over this. “Must have been,” he concludes. He looks again at his friend. “You better change, Broken Heart. The end has come.”
A tiny, dark figure appears high on the slopes of the looming, white mountain. Heading downwards.
Jacob prepares to greet him.