Before going on another one of his adventures, Kolya pauses at the CENTER to pay respects to what he considers to be his ur-parents. “Oh Black and White (he never knew their names), I *will* live up to your name; I *will* find out who I really am and heal these wounds to my heads… head I meant there. Sorry.” He takes his leave.
“We hear. We: here.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0101, Nautilus, Perch-Mistletoe, Upper Austra, White Palace
“The proximity of Diamond to Ruby in the Virgin Islands, is telling, Sally. Can I still call you Sally?” He turns, notes the slight tinge of blue in the hair. Dusk now, soon to be dawn. And in-between… well, Charlene doesn’t need to know anything about it, let’s say. Starfish Lake (or Sea). The Motel without the ending “l”. Couch instead of bed. But it’ll do for the job. He’ll think of explanations (for Charlene) afterwards. Must – go – back.
“You may.” He took that in a double way and moved onward.
“And you’ll note in the background, the — distance, that there’s another Diamond. Diamond 02 as opposed to Diamond 01. And *both* Diamonds are near a Hope (Hope 01 and Hope 02), indicating ring.”
“I’ll get it,” spoke listening Kolya from the back.
“Not now, Kolya,” Jeffrey Phillips in front said, laughing. “It’s just a metaphor.” Sally was also snickering but tried to at least cover her ruby red mouth with her ghost diamond white hand to disguise.
“Oh.”
Jeffrey Phillips now pointed upper right with his cane finger. “Parasol,” he indicated. “Opening for her to come back,” he explained further about the presence of the pin marking the small Virgin I. village on the map. “Umbrella,” he spoke more back to Kolya. “But don’t open it or there’s a chance more rain will pour into your brain.” Less snickering this time from Sally. She truly felt sorry for Kolya and his holey headed condition and thought new-ish lover Jeffrey Phillips had taken it too far this time. She forcefully halted her smile, turned to Kolya as well to show her serious face, perhaps inserting a schweet secret smile upon it in place of the wry, even mocking one.
With this, Kolya remembers the move from Lower to Upper Austra again and the search for the green grey alien. Ruby. Just like the map. But how to phrase to avoid more mocking? At least from Jeffrey, Kolya thinks. Jeffrey remains undeveloped, but perhaps this new-ish gal Sally — Newgent he thinks, similar to new gal — *can* help him. *He* can help him. He can. He: Can.
Alysha was by *his* side. Alysha reached over and held his hand, knowing she was the one. She’d grow up soon enough.
(END OF “SUNKLANDS PHOTO-NOVEL 27”!)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0617, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Virgin Islands
“So you see, Mrs. Powers, the black is far outweighing the white now — I’d give it currently as 75 – 25, up from 50 – 50 just last week. Your husband will be dead in another. He’s in hospital right now isn’t he?”
“Mrs. Jenny Powers couldn’t believe her ears. “But… he *works* in a hospital. He’s, I don’t know, a *doctor*.”
“And pray tell what kind of doctor Mrs. Powers? Psychiatrist? Podiatrist? Vet, even?”
“Vet, yes a vet,” she decided. She sat back in her chair, fighting the tears. The black coffin beside her was too close. It felt like it was on top of her now, even trying to encompass her.
“Vets aren’t in hospital unless you count the VA. And I don’t think your husband is that kind of vet. He will be dead in a week,” the owner of the funeral home doubled down. “I hate to be so blunt but you must prepare. The black coffin you’re staring at would make a fine vessel for the afterlife, as we sometimes put it. Like a brave warrior sent back to Valhalla. You said your husband was a vet.”
“Yes,” she said absentmindedly, starting to believe this is all a dream. *Must* be a dream. But how can she wake up?
“Oops, the black has moved a bit left again. Looks like closer to 80 percent now. You better make that purchase today. It’s the only way to end this.”
“How (*sniff*) much?”
“How much do you have? Vets make pretty good money as I understand. Even vet’s assistants. You trade off each week I’ve heard. How exactly does that work?”
Maybe she could snap her fingers? She tries but they just pass through each other. “None of this is real. None of this is *real*.” Didn’t work.
“Typical reaction to severe grief Mrs. Powers. Oh dear: perhaps 85 now. Your husband Tim might be dead before tomorrow.”
“How about a 1000?” She thought of her pocketbook in the car and a thousand dollar bill within. “How about 2 to end this, 3.” She recalled she had 3 1000 dollar bills in the car she drove over with, a Toyota Dusty with 200,000 miles due for an engine change. That’s why she had the money in the car, in her purse. She was on her way to the mechanic to pay for a motor so she could keep running from… who? Where did she come from?
“90 now. You better cough up the appropriate money. Do you want your husband to be buried in the ground like a dog?”
“Don’t *start* with dogs.” Her eyes were completely misting over. She decided to scream at the top of her lungs — maybe that would do it — end this.
“Another typical reaction,” came the reply after the deed was done. “Let it out, Mrs. Powers. Let it all out. Let the whole town know how you feel in this moment. Severe severe grief. Let it out!”
She screamed again. She stopped. She screamed some more, louder, longer, louder… louder… LOUDER.
Sirens went off down at the sheriff’s station. A firetruck and an ambulance were dispatched from the opposite side of town, the first running over Tim Powers bending down to pick up a Lincoln penny from the road, and the second making sure he was good and smushed and dead. His soul left his body.
—–
“It was a pretty good one tonight,” Jeffrey Phillips exclaimed later to mate/lover Charlene the Punk ’round the breakfast table eating Toasty O’s, a new version instead shaped like little squares and triangles. Still the same delicious oaty taste, though. He spoons a big heapfull into his face between sentences. “The dream I mean,” he says with open, milky mouth, making Charlene wince. She decides to take a long bathroom break while he finishes up. Sitting fully clothed on the toilet biding her time, she thinks about the dream he spoke of and the poor widow-to-be within, having to scream her lungs out to wake up and at the same time losing her husband. The scream equals death itself. A pretty good one, as Jeffrey declared after revealing the details. Worth putting in his blog, even.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0615, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Paper Soap+, Soap
He was on a tightrope above the city, higher than ever. If he fell this time he may never make it, Yellow Family below absorbed by Black Mouse by this point up in space. Sacrifice. A menace revealed. To the left: death. To the right: death. Only center is safe, and that’s a narrow line indeed to navigate.
All Hidi can think to do to help is jump into the next section, the next book. Alice in Wonderland is done and over with. Time to head through the Looking Glass.
“Don’t worry,” he says below, waiting for her. “I’ll catch you.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0518, Nautilus, New York, Retirement Islands, Wild West, Wonderland
“Whooo … are … you?”
“Well, I’m *not* Alice if that’s what you’re thinking. I mean, we kind of look the same I guess — and since I’m *here*, in Wonderland…”
“*Whooo* … are … you?” he repeated from his mushroom, exactly three inches tall to perhaps Alice’s two now. Kolya would be a *real* big boy to her in her current size. “I’m just a girl, another girl — but not Alice, like I already said, already stated.”
“**Whooo**…”
“Wendy,” she decided to interrupt him instead of visa versa. “Like the hamburger girl. You know, ‘Where’s the beef?’ That’s (a franchise catchphrase) from the 70’s.” She looked up at the caterpillar, trying to gauge his age. Impossible, she decided, in this land full of paradoxes and riddles. Could be one day. Or one century.
“Whaat … are … you?” He was satisfied with the Whooo part for now. Time to change the question. “Whyyy” could be next, maybe even “howww” to cover all the bases. He takes another inhale from his hookah pipe, ready to emit new (smoke) letters.
“What am I?” she said, half to him and half to herself. She hadn’t thought of it before (!). “I am a…” Witch? she pondered saying next. Mermaid? Or just a clever girl playing hide and seek with damaged goods. “Just a girl. With a schweet secret smile,” she decided to tack on.
“Shooow … me.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0517, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Wild West, Wonderland
“Beckett?” she wondered.
“Paul.”
“No. The sim. Missing Beckett.”
“Oh. Correct.”
—–
“Muse is a key word here,” she mused aloud later, perhaps for me but also others listening in, the prescient, the psychic. Like our damaged friend Kolya. There he is. Listening in.
“Hi big boy. I’m over here now.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0516, Europe, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Retirement Islands, Upper Austra, Wild West, Wonderland
He wanted to scream but couldn’t open his mouth to do it. Stuck. Just like in life.
Realities were shifting around for him more rapidly than ever, almost at a blur’s pace now. Time to calm the hell down. Where’s that green phone and D Flat ring when you need it?
Lunchtime now. He wondered if any of these other dudes he was sitting with on this beam in the sky had any packets of mustard for his sandwich. He hated bologna without mustard. But with it: best thing ever. “Wanda forgot the mustard again,” he said to Fred beside him, lifting the top slice of bread to show the non-yellowness within.
Yellow yellow yellow. He was remembering something. Tumbling, he fell into a different reality, different universe really.
Wanda was with him, now called Hidi, true face hidden beneath towering blue hair. They had kids between them. Yellow ones, all beaming smiles at the camera. “Cheese!”
He tried to reach for the ringing phone but it remained just out of his grasp. Blue anyway; probably wasn’t for him, and neither was Wanda-now-Hidi and the in-between kids. And now he’s checking, the key is D, not D Flat. Too far away from Middle C to matter. Oh well. On to the next!
“Let me try!” Hidi exuded, poseball whisked away as she selected the next.
“Get it?!” she shouted down to Kolya far below after assuming the new pose. “I’m a banana!” Kolya didn’t get it, the one within not yet ready to be peeled. “Very appealing!” he shouted up, trying to be funny despite the confusion. The holes in his head began to hurt. He forgot to eat his sandwich before he left that one reality, but there was the problem with the mustard. Then, with the vertigo induced by hunger apparently, he fell off the beam into a family centered by beaming yellow kids. Well, except for the middle one, who was too small to smile and just sucked on her pacifier to indicate being please in the moment. The camera’s eye moved onward…
Kolya selected one but it turned out to be Hidi’s pose again. “Whaddaya think? Giant tigers!” He’d seen this before. But where?
Then he remembered (again). Picturetown. Must – get – back.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0515, Canada/Picturetown, Nautilus, New York, Retirement Islands, Springfeld, Wild West
Randy reads captioned synopses of potential shows to watch while eating his dinner (pizza). “Mystery Theatre, ‘House on the Hill’. Estranged sheriff’s niece summons nervous deputy back from the grave to help solve his own murder, no no no (*click*); Self Help Channel: ‘Taming the Banana Within’, nope (*click*); ‘Attack of the 50 Foot Man’: that might be good. Hmm, stars the same guy as the first. Oh well, here goes!” (captions off)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0514, Nautilus, Paper Soap+, Retirement Islands, Soap, Wild West
Center. Peace.
He has found Home. Paperweight. Paperville but different. Root word: Paper. And Soap.
And then there he was. Soap National Park. In Paper.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0502, Collagesity Fordham-, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Paper, Paper Soap+, Wild West
There were all kinds of environments he could paint in. This one was just regular Midday, a default setting, actually one of his favorites and always easy to “reach”. Time was controllable in this land of two, initially in a fourfold way (Sunrise, Midday, Sunset, Midnight), and, with some additional quick adjustments, any time atall could be produced. Then, going beyond defaults, there were the customized environments, many in number. I’m sure all seasoned Second Lyfers have a set of their favorites that they regularly use. Mine include Fairy dark blue, Cornfield, Cromac, and Lo Gun Light. But Midday is certainly handy for initially brightening up any scene. So here we are.
He knows this is not Black Lake, where the monster came from or identified with at least. So a positive situation. He must paint this body of water before him over and over again for healing, for purification. He must drink the water — boil it first, of course. Take it into his body. Eventually he must — become this body (of water). 2n1. 4n1 to 2n1 to 1n1. There. He is TILE.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0501, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Wild West
Sunklands 