Category Archives: 06

Achilles

An invisible cartoon boy, Martha Lamb thinks, studying Falmouth 36 once more on the 4th floor of the Fal Mouth Moon gallery. Hugged and loved by a visible cartoon girl with red shoes. Perhaps they are future lovers, or perhaps brother and sister. Maybe he has a defect that hides him from view — a malady — but is loved by his sister still. Odd that I think this, she ruminates.

Then over here, further away in a field, the inversion: girl invisible and boy visible. The “E” on the next collage over blinks on and off. This *is* love; mutual exchanging.

If I could just *reach* into the collage… somewhere about… here.

Or is it here?

Here?

—–

So close yet so far. How to get from there…

… to here. Swish away the pain into the ice and snow and make it all go away. Football successfully kicked.

—–

“‘Copyright Protected Image’,” she read from the picture in front of her. “And to think I was going to get rid of all this in Collagesity, Sid my dearest. But now I think it is a gateway to the Great Beyond, fries and liquor be damned.”

“You shouldn’t say that about your church,” Sid offered. “You were so devoted to it before.”

She turned to him. “The Diagonal changed me, made me into a true woman. I was like two-dimensional before. *You* changed me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

“All that’s left is the hand and how to break through. Without pain. They say that there’s no gain without pain, but I’m thinking of something else.”

“Yeah, Martha. I need you to listen tonight.”

She went on. “It’s the 36th collage of this series all right. I’ve been studying it nightly for going on half a week now. The Diagonal is giving me energy to understand.”

Sid grabbed her hand in order to stop her. “Listen, Martha. We need to talk. About The Diagonal.” He let go of her hand. “We can’t use it in that way any more.”

“No?” Her voice was suddenly far away, as across a field.

“No,” he said firmly. “I need to tell you the story of who I really am, how I really got here. It all started with the firing.”

“Firing?” Tears formed in her eyes despite her efforts. “What firing?”

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daydream

“Okay. But it was definitely Smelly Santy. You remember — from the Mission. The eggs, Bill. They must have killed him (!). The Bennington experiments.”

“Nasty place. Even I would admit that.”

“Dwayne, a complaint from the customer at Table D.”

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fired

Angus Nuffin was happy. He knew this would be his last night as a chef at Perch Restaurant. Last piece of tuna in the fridge — everything was set up. Yes, there’s his supervisor Dwayne coming round the corner after taking The Bill’s order.

“Nuffin, this is a *very* special customer. One grilled tuna for the new queen of Collagesity, *lightly* cooked.”

“Coming up boss.”

“And *don’t* sit around on the appliances if you’re not cooking. *Clean* or something.”

“Right you are boss.” Nuffin nimbly hops off the dishwasher and heads to the fridge.

—–

“All right Dwayne you bastard,” Angus mutters under his breath. “Just move along so that I can burn this baby to an utter crisp.”

“I recognized him immediately, The Bill.”

“Bill will do. We’ll think about the royal appellation later.”

—–

There you go.

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Middle House

“Who are you?”

Tessa suddenly understood. “Um. This is not good, Grandpa.”

“Don’t get up sir.”

Too late.

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slenderman

“How long has it been, Tessa?” an older Grandpa wheezed. He was the more valuable platinum through and through now.”

“4 years. You’re old, Grandpa. You need to rest here a while.”

“Is my tie on straight? Can you tell my teeth from my face still?”

“You look great,” his grand niece lied.

“Send her in, then. We must get the pricing over with.”

Liana the owner enters her heavily windowed coffee shop and immediately begins hanging tapestry. This was not who they were expecting. Where’s Sally?

Looks like Grandpa will live to see another day.

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giraffe

She was leaning so far over that I’m surprised her head wasn’t hitting the window pane in the back. But Nataly was doing a good job explaining the story so far. Let’s take a listen…

“Pen is the evolution of The Pencil, Dear Reader. And so our saga continues, just 4 long, long years later. New Island has become post-apocalyptic. What is the disaster that caused this? you should ask. Increase of sand, increase of terrain and elevation; increase of *The Wastelands*. The Tilers moved in first, took over the Fries with Cheese property downtown and destroyed the church. Hopefully we’ll get to the continuing challenges of basement dwellers Mrs. Fogg and Ms. Frame soon, thrown together for protection, food, and liberty. Young Shirley Boot ceases to be 12, but has progressed no further than the first day of her 13th year, frozen in time because of the… catastrophe — we’ll certainly get to that shortly. Not-so-young Ruby also remains middle-of-15, unable to transverse the ages 16 17 18 to reach the 19 she should be by this point. And Mabel: Mabel remains old but child-like. She’s taken to wearing her Hannah Montana outfit 24/7, and this is most likely the effects of the radiation as well — affecting her brains and not what. She’s remodeled Robot Derak Jones to become Robert Drake Johns, probably another symptom since he’s as lime green as her now. Ahh, now we get to Sally. For Sally is perhaps an even stranger one. Founder of New Yd, evolution of the Tilers, she now keeps watch on the Deep Dunes for sign of The Monster, who continues to roam New Island and where aging *is* effected. The Man in the High Castle makes sure of that. Perhaps we should join him and his current crew next for more answers. Thank you for listening, and have a super night!”

Nataly removed the mike from her long, long neck and stood up. “How was that David?”

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absorption

“I should be finished with journal 9 in 2 weeks or less, Robert Drake Johns. Then we will reassess the situation.”

“That’s great, Older Mabel,” spoke the tall, lime green robot seated beside her. His voice was nasal compared to most mechanoids of his type — Mabel designed him this way to appear slightly comical to her and help lighten the mood sometimes. Because the mood was dire in many instances. The Wastelands held nothing back.

“I’m wondering when The Monster will return,” started RDJ again. “Sally lives on the edge of the Deep Dunes but hasn’t seen or smelled anything in 2 weeks or more. The Axis powers may have won the war, but they haven’t been especially active conquerors… let us do what we please, when we please.”

“Oh they’re around.” She scribbles quickly once more. “Right now I’m seeing a narrow boat, mired deep in the high sands. Two children — no, a child and a man, actually an older man. Then another, observing man. No, sorry again, a woman but with many eyes, some which could be masculine. Actors and Observers again, Robert Drake Johns.”

“I miss my cousin,” said RDJ out of the blue. “I miss Cardboard. The character and not the substance, although that has disappeared too. All metal and rust now; little plastic as well.”

“And parchment,” added Mabel brightly. “Thank Gods for parchment.”

“And Ink!”

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chance upon

He approached the other bush cautiously. “Are you my son?” He waited. “I’m looking for my son.”

The wind continued to blow.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0009, 0601, New Island, The Waste+

exit, stage left

“Well, it looks like this is it, Grassy.”

“Grass, please.” Grassy would never get over that he’s a child-like Mmmmmm through and through and will never “progress” to the current state of his cousin Opp — True Opp or Tropp, that is. He’ll never be X-ed out in other words. The shortened name of Grass would never stick. “Yes, I will miss you my old friend.”

“And you my friend. But I’ll return for the weed if nothing else. You certainly haven’t seen the last of me, ha ha.”

“Yes: ha ha. Ha ha ha.”

“Ha ha ha ha ha!”

—–

15 minutes later:

“Would you like to see the painting, Grassy? Er, Grass. Grassy… Grass… can’t remember.”

“Whatever,” Grassy Noll submitted, having given up on correcting her about his name, at least for tonight. “Oh, sure. I totally forgot that’s why you can leave now.”

“Plus the payoff to that loathsome Philip Strevor. And the payoff for, well, everyone that lives here in the swamp village, but most importantly perhaps, Roger Pine Ridge, the great variant. And *you* can leave too, of course.”

“No, my place is here. Waiting for your intermittent returns.”

“Fine, fine. I thank you for your service. I hope the new apartment is to your liking.”

“It’s great!”


Grassy in his new apartment.

—–

30 minutes later:

“So there it is Grassy. A beaut, isn’t it? And it’s all because of that ring Ellen gave me — the power. Catvas here likes it too.”

“I do!” meows the winged feline from her perch just behind.

Grassy moved closer to study the painting more carefully. “Lovely indeed.” He put a finger to his lip here. “But I think I see one detail you missed. We better go check it out.”

“Now?” Bill almost shouted. “But there’s *people* over there. Lots of people. You know I can’t stand people.”

“Most of them are just bots — no one really inside, you see. But let’s go beneath the Mermaid Tavern for a beer beforehand to loosen up your nerves. I’ll buy.”

“You talked me into it!”

—–

“See, Bill? Just one of those silly bots down here. Usually there are a number standing around like zombies.” Grassy’s eyes glaze over here. “And only a handful more right now at the temple according to my inworld map. Perfect time to go. Fate, we could call it.”

“All right. I’ve drunk almost my entire chug-a-mug. One more gulp and I’ll be ready.”

—–

“No, we’ve checked around the whole structure — like the back of my hand now, Grassy — and I can’t see anything I really missed of importance.”

“Look again,” the green Mmmmmm requested. He indicates toward the epicenter of the temple.

“The dancer?” They then jointly stare at the child going ’round the world.

—–

“And that’s it, Sidechick! We’re done with ‘Collagesity 2018 Early’.” They were standing beside Nascera’s Meadowbrook ice cream truck where it all began.

“Just like that? It was sort of an abrupt ending.”

“Bill can paint,” Magus Ellen counters. “Annie can paint. We will assume Mabel can too because of those paint splattered jeans Axis gave her. The great 3-n-1. It’s complete.”

“What *about* Axis? You said time and beach space were altered because he got Baker Bloch to discover Magellan’s broken teleporter one day too early.”

“If you haven’t guessed, Sidechick my friend, my understudy, Magellan is me. I broke the teleporter. But on purpose. It was the only way we could get Opp to come here in the first place and fill the center up with his blueness. Otherwise — all for naught.”

“I’m not understanding. What about, for example, the golden orb?”

“There’s a black and white opening beyond Braynard’s Place that doesn’t concern us. This would be New Eden. Does it stay coupled with New Island through the castle or does it begin to move independently? This depends on a number of factors, including what happens in the haunted Artist Point colony. But it’s a story for another day, as they say.”

Sidechick Corea tries process all this information, then: “What now for us?”

Ellen smiles mischievously. “I have a surprise for you. Still holding his own ice cream cone in his right hand, he expertly whips out another from his left pocket and hands it to his faithful assistant. “You’ve earned this.”

Now let’s leave the 8×8 behind and walk up the road to see that bridge you’ve been talking about forever.”


The Forever Bridge.

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2018 EARLY”!

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Troll Cave 02

The Bakers stare at Eraserhead Man while he rants. “It’s ‘HOW’S ANNIE?’ for PETE’S sake! And I MADE my successful ‘Return’! No more ‘WORST ENDING LINE IN TELEVISION HISTORY’ talk for ME!”

The Bakers then turn to his riding companion to the dinner, Robot Derak Jones, and stare. “I said I’m *sorry* I forgot to remind him to bring his hearing aid!”

“LEMONADE?! NO THANKS!”

—–

After the party, The Bakers clean up and discuss amongst themselves a more proper ending to “Collagesity 2018 Early”.

“Annie should be in the dunes,” offers Baker Blinker. “Just wandering around at night, lonely after Karl had, er, been forgotten. Do we know what happened to Karl?”

Baker Bloch talked while continuing to scrub omlet stains out of a pan. “I think (he scrubs some more), I think Tropp took his place in the Bluebird Cuddle Van. True Opp, I meant there.”

“The more realistic and human version of the Mmmmmm Opp, yes. The one that came out the pipe on the far side…”

“Anyway, that’s what I’ve got.”

“Seems kind of vague,” opines the female Baker. “How would we go about bringing Karl back, if it could be done? I *love* playing that role, after all.”

Baker Bloch finally manages to remove the last egg stain from the pan; hands it to Baker Blinker for drying. “Let’s go outside and sit and discuss it more.”

—–

“Sun’s setting again, Other Baker. Days are so short here. What is it? 3 hours of day, then an hour of night?”

“Think so.”

“So short,” he repeats. “*Could* we get use to that?”

Baker Blinker takes in the implication. “You’re saying we should just *move* here? Aren’t you? That’s how Karl can live on. That’s how New Island and the rest can continue onward forever and ever.”

“We have this cave, after all. Seems pretty empty overall. Vacated, I mean; owners aren’t around much. We can prepare and cook meals, then clean. We can continue to have parties with Robot Derak Jones, Eraserhead Man, and the rest. Given time, we’re sure to figure out a way to bring Karl back.”

“Write out Tropp,” states Baker Blinker, shifting her weight in the Sunlounger. “Write out Madam Mexico or whatever you’re calling her. Get rid of New Eden altogether. It’s just New Island and The End. Ellen and his assistant Sidechick don’t have to be right about *everything*.”

“Let’s take a walk. Let’s go down to the bridge and turn around.”

—–

“It seems like ages ago when I first crossed this bridge in the Spookmobile, Other Baker. But it was only a little over a year ago. I didn’t remember how I got here to New Island afterwards. The Spookmobile turned into a Love Bug. I guess you were back in Collagesity when all this happened. I turned into Mabel, got out of the car and then sat back in as myself so I could reach the pedals — and I was already trapped.”

“Mid-Hazel,” Baker Blinker responds.

Baker Bloch sighs. “I don’t even like to say her name. Wheeler was *so wrong* to get in cahoots with her.”

“That’s why we need to blow it up.”

Baker Bloch’s face expressed confusion. “The *bridge*?”

“Ummm…”

—–

But then they made the mistaken of wandering even further — under the bridge and south into the abandoned art colony in the dead of night. Safer Barnaby Point here, but then a couple of steps beyond: Artist Point proper. Someone or something followed them. Baker Blinker’s facelight soon winked out, a tell tale sign.

It was just Baker Blinker, Baker Bloch, and that person or thing alone in there. Forever and ever?

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