“Who *are* you?” Marsha asked.
“My name is Jane. But you can call me Olive. Olive Green. I’m really just a kid beneath it all. Like you.”
“So I see.” She looked at the contract again before her on the table. With all the information.
“Sign… just there.” She pointed.
June Bug Jane had found her nest egg in Paradise. “Olive Green Pink”!
Two more contracts to create and she’s done.
My friend Veyot posted a timely video on her tumblr site re dragons and the coronavirus.
She also makes collages. Cool!
Thanks for sticking with me all these years old friend! I’ll try to fit The Last Drop over in nearby Rosewood into this here photo-novel soon. In fact…
It appears to be growing! And I think SEAN is LOST.
She tried to decide how to position herself when he entered the store. Should she be staring at the eggs? Away, perhaps at the closed or opened door on the other side? What would be more dramatic? What would be more *correct*?
She’d been rehearsing for weeks. “Formosa,” she declared down to him confidently at another time — perhaps he is sitting on the ground before her in a compliant position — “is a LOST island as well. *I*, Kate McCoy, formerly little Katy Kidd of Benangatron, have decided to *avow* my responsibilities to that supposedly responsible island. I *do not* want to be chained down by Big Government — unable to roam about freely.” She does a couple of rapid model poses to emphasize freedom of motion. In her mind, he stares up, a slave to her every tantalizing move.
Eventually, they would get to the eggs, and the sale thereof. “5000 lindens for *one*,” she spoked firmly. “And I get to choose. They’re all the same magical being but still — my choice.”
“Um,” he uttered rather helplessly, knowing that would about clean out his bank account. How would he eat for the next week? The eggs certainly weren’t food. And who knows what the magical being inside really was. Would it be yet *another* mouth to feed? Still — he felt he had no choice. He nodded, clicking on her and depositing 5000 into her own Our Second Lyfe account. She smiled, but not in a good way. She owned the boy now.
He left with the egg to now unbridled cackling behind him.
On the way back east and the original 9×9, I decided to climb Mt. Valis per June Bug’s suggestion — take in a better view of the land.
Behind me while I sat at the top was the Vale itself from whence I just came. Paradise? It has to be in some way, some fashion, but I’m not ready for it yet — not ready to settle down *anywhere* at the moment. This is the centre, true, but there’s more Pennsylvania-Corsica Prime resonances all around.
I stared ahead, trying to see the location of a shop June Bug spoke about selling eggs. Not just any old eggs but 3 of a kind. “*Not* dragon kind,” she emphasized. But magical beings inside nonetheless.
Place called Eggtown. And the magical being inside? Guy called Phil.
Yes, I was staring at it all along, straight ahead. Eggtown.
“You don’t even know who I am. You *can’t* stay here forever.”
“I know, I know.” He looked out across the field of flowers — ‘nother one.
“We could dance before you go. I can do that for you. One last dance.”
“That’s not my name,” she interrupted. “You know my name.”
“June, yes,” he offered. “Like the month.”
“A particular June as well. This June.”
“Alright, alright.” Perhaps this wasn’t Paradise after all. Like she said, he must return. No short way to the center for certain.
I sat at the end which was also the middle, and contemplated: We all come from the egg but we all must return to the egg.
We must walk on water to get to the center.
I certainly wasn’t ready quite yet. Could this be… the *actual* end. Life itself?
No, I realized. Just another beginning. After freedom from shackles.
I enter, what could be, Paradise.
Plain Jane Phyllis
Klondike Phox suddenly found herself not with the widows. In Plain Jane (sim) she was now, in the middle of some kind of pandemic, she sensed, disinfectors all around. The present, in other words. The nearest one spoke to her, holding out his hands. “Now, now, I’ll handle this.” Phyllis moves forward toward him…
… only to find herself somewhere else once more: in a boat with a blanket on a cool summer day, freshly baited rod in front of her.
On a coffee break in a nearby gardening shed, not-so-plain June Bug sensed the manifestation happen. “Another Plain Jane,” she groused, looking up at it. “Nancy Kulp should have never opened that can of worms in front of Jed.”