blooms
A miracle, thought Herbert Gold, looking on. I was just dreaming about this fenced-in place yesterday and no flowers. Yet spring is still far far away. I will mark this spot in my mind.
He takes second psychological photo and moves on.
Past the Petunia Trail toward his old home.
—–
“Snow or sand?” queries wife April Mae by his side, trying to snap him out of it. No more meeting makers and dying! she vowed day before Friday of last week’s Wednesday. He rubbed his non-platinum head, sat up. “Snow,” he responded, looking around as if trying to gauge the place he’s in. Seeing his color return, April Mae breathed a sigh of relief.
—–
“I was looking for — home,” he explained more later at the breakfast table. “But the bridge — the middle of the bridge…” Stopped him? he then thought. He still didn’t know where he was.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0504, Rose Heaven-
other returns
“If you take away the Fire Tree it all begins to make sense. We can peer back into a time when the deserted village was full of life and living. The days before Tully. The wonder years.”
“Was that before the mist or after?” Parasol asked, trying to be patient with Ingo’s historic ramblings. She had a meeting with Herbert Glenn Gold at quarter past 10. Yeah, she was pissed at him (hence the full name again).
“Before of course.”
She glanced out the window at the Fire Tree she couldn’t quite see from this angle. She couldn’t wait any longer. Time to *see* Herbert.
—–
“I was wondering where we would meet,” spoke up Herbert. Wonder again, thought Parasol. It was here she realized Ingo was right about the Fire Tree, the village. All of it.
She jumped right into it. No time for niceties tonight. “I want you to *get* her here. I want to trap her like a fly in a bottle.”
“Erm.” He shivered as her feet dangled menacingly above him. As he stood on one. “*Who* are we talking about here?”
“You know who.”
—–
George V. Norris, barely 2 feet tall, prepared to play the harp in his wee abode. “A Bach tune will do tonight,” he squeaked to himself, then reconsidered. “Or is it Buch.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0503, Rose Heaven-
the return of Purple (and) Bear
“One of us is going to kill the other one, you know.”
“I know. (pause) I hope it’s you.” Communication bleeps from the opposite side of the room. They both stare over.
“The Oracle says it’s time for me to ride your back over to the island, Mr. Purple.”
He puts away the knife. For now. “Hop on.”
—–
“Faster. Faster!”
—–
By the time he reached the island, Purple (and) Bear had become one again. He stares over at his old house. The one stolen from him by Rules of Rose.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0502, Rose Heaven-
Serenity again
He was just a kooky old Japanese guy on permanent vacation. But at least he brought his slippers to Rose-, er, this *place*, unlike fellow vacationer Donald Farr before him earlier this winter. He’d heard the robot play the 2 “Gouldberg Variations” in a row, a realm favorite thanks to Merry. Bookends they were, and belonged together as one. Now he was ready for Zoidboro’s sermon at the Church of the Fly Lord behind him here. Perhaps he’d meet Peter today. Parasol said he would like him. Another old dude. And spoke a bit of Japanese, even.
—–
“The world is a windshield,” Zoidboro preached through tentacle covered mouth, “waiting to take you out when you least suspect it. Take Little Timmy Flick last week over on Highway 52 behind the old Tastee Freeze. Take Thomas the Elder this past Tuesday before the last Wednesday after Monday’s Friday at the Yoko Ona Parody Museum, in the parking lot even. Yea, parking lots can be dangerous too. Central parking lots especially. To get to a Square, you must always Times something….”
Ji-San turned to the man sitting next to him and spoke low beneath the sermon. “Are you per chance Peter?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0501, Rose Heaven-
Areogeleye
“There,” Wheeler declared. “Down at the bottom.” She bends down. “A blue eye!”
“Your… *missing* eye?” Baker Blinker asks, staring down as well at the grassy being with one blue eye, the left one (to it).
“Yes. We must observe this closely.” She stands back, taking in the whole work.
Newton Collage 09, (in)formally “TILE Waterfall”. She sees this through the checked description. “TILE,” she then utters. “Does *Karoz* know about this one?”
“I– I’m…”
“We better ask,” Wheeler stated, not letting Baker Blinker finish. She could tell her new partner didn’t know. But Karoz was the last person Baker Blinker wanted to talk to right now. Not after what she had just done.
We may also note that this is the 49th collage of the 100 piece “Art 10 x 10” housed in the Collagesity cubic skybox called the Edwardston Station Gallery that Wheeler Wilson and Baker Blinker are presently combing through for clues. The 49th room of Kowloon’s 100 Story Building similarly contains a “spilled” black liquid combined with bright white. We’ve already seen it here: the dream cat called Space spills black ink while diminutive feline companion Star seems to spill a contrasting white milk and then revel in the mixture. We don’t have a white *spill* here, yet white *absorption* through a synthetic, ultralight porous material called areogel. The blue eye *eyes* the areogel, knowing what it actually stands for.
This is black and white combined again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0417, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus
hidden
But something still doesn’t add up. Or multiply. We have another on the rooftops quite near the Bird — staring at it even — leaf umbrella in hand shielding his *head*, if not necessarily the rest of his body, from the localized rain surrounding the whale directly above him.
He has a different tattoo on it than Fish Head, but, otherwise, the same body it seems. A bird instead? Dry instead of wet?
And, to be specific, the rotating Bird he’s peering toward only has the head of such. The (white) body is instead that of a female human, outstretched arms sort of giving the appearance of wings.
If only I could translate the native languages better inworld, Chinese and Japanese. Because both are used here.
Maybe a trick to understanding all this is start seeing through walls. For example, we find a mysterious *hole* using this method directly below Fish Head’s bar on the ground level.
Where does this lead us?
Underwater, it turns out. A more realistic abode for, let’s say, a fish.
“You’re not going to be able to figure it out.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0416, 100 Story Building-, Kowloon+
bar fight?
The Fish goes its separate way from the Head. Like seeks like.
Although the rain still pelts down, he is above the fray now.
Unlike the Bird perched down below, the Fish doesn’t revolve. Take that as you will. Just an fyi.
The bar directly below the Bird seems vacated. Is this a dying city?
It’s a rival bar to (grounded) Fish Head’s just down the alley. Did Fish Head cause the closure? Is his known confidant, the Heart Queen, also responsible?
Rotation, hmm.
One way to find out.
“Did you cause the closure of the Bird’s bar?”
“No.
—–
“I mean maybe.
—–
“Yes.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0415, Kowloon+
87 02
“I’m going to make you partially transparent so don’t panic.”
“Okay, here’s the problem. Or deal. *I* sit on the black stool that represents the 8 ball. 88 01 (let’s say), you are on the orange “2” stool and 88 02 (we’ll say), you’re perched on the yellow “3”. Wheeler then considered something else. “Stool, huh.” She then took a remote picture before returning to the 87 Room.
Room 61
“Alright, so between you is an XVideos labelled laptop that, to me, obviously is suppose to represent “x” as in *times* something. But 3 *times* 2 (she points to the 3 associated objects in turn) equals 6. Added to my 8 (stool) you get 86. But this is (Room) 87.
If you consider the X might be a cross (+) it goes even one further from the truth, since 80 (points to herself) plus 3 (points to 88 01) plus 2 (points to 88 02) equals 85. Now the XVideos laptop sits on a stool representing the 1 ball in pool, the blue one. To me, this *must* represent Blue Eye, the missing one in either Arkansas or Missouri. So here’s the solution, people. I’m 80, you guys are 3 *times* 2 or 6, and then the stool, the one, when added in at last — *not* multiplied — brings us to the needed 87. You have to count the missing one hidden by the X to make sense of it all.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked just beyond the wall.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0414, 100 Story Building-, Kowloon+
87 01
“It’s time to take one of you observing 88’s to the room to see what went missing. Maybe both of you. Yeah: both.”
—–
“First, a little wine before we start. Sorry you can’t have any, guys.” (sip)
“Guys? Can you hear me?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0413, 100 Story Building-, Blue Feather Sea+, Kowloon+
Sunklands 