“Ummm,” goes Philip.
“Errr,” goes Lexi. Rattled Philip moves on. Lexi decides to stay. She had a purpose now.
—–
Philip’s bike then gets destroyed in an unfortunate rail accident (see background below) so he decided to pause before getting another one and instead sell some fish from a street vendor kiosk for while. Just for fun. First customer: himself, who wandered over from the Red District, eager for a talk.
“You’re not green any more,” he began. “Last time we spoke… you were green.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, *me*.” He held up a freshly battered halibut he’d been bashing with a hammer. “Fish?”
“Fishy indeed,” The Other replied. “I want to see *you* eat it. I want to see if it will instead fall out of your mouth. Because of, I don’t know, lack of internal organs?”
Philip places a quick call to Lexi. “Hi. A little help over here? I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“I-I’m busy too right now, Philip. I found something. Golden. Auto.” She also stares over at herself.
“Well hurry up (!).”
Herself rolls down the window, starts hurling similarly based accusations as Philip’s double. “I heard, *me*, that you can’t even play the trumpet. No breath.” She held out a golden instrument from the car she’d been forging with a hammer. “Music?”
She also was a bit different in appearance from her other self, no tattoos in this case. Wi-erd. What could all this mean? both think separately and then together as they rendezvous at the Fuu Kee Chinese Restaurant, doubles tagging right along. As they do.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 