Sissy Bird Cage felt like she was in the right place (red shoes), even though she didn’t know how she got here. She remembered dying. Or some part of her dying. A business, yes. Heavily identified with, so much so that she felt it was an extension of her body, her mind, her soul. It shared her same name. Her blood coursed through its veins.
Over in Mortons Gap. I believe they made it into a Saki Bar after she left but she hadn’t been back to check. Too painful.
She remained on Corsica. In fact, on the same peninsula that they called The Trunk in olden days, when the original Ant Castle was still around. Eleph Trunk, some called it. Not Elephant. Not after the Ant was extracted from the end, set up in his (or her) own castle right at the very tip of the nose of the thing.
She’s looking for a place to apply for a job. She’d heard in Flamerider here there were secret jobs, up in the air above the green and granite landscape. Ted had told her about it — said she might fit in well there. She recalled all this now. After the shock of transitioning wore off.
“Anyone hiring ’round here?” she asked the broken doll tending a bar inside the red shoe place.
The doll suddenly fell to pieces. Looks like she’s found her new position, quick and easy (home). Slowly but surely, this becomes reality and the other a dream.
—–
“When I first showed up, Ted, she was standing right on this spot. Right here. I had to clean up all the mess and parts but it was worth it, problem solved.” She turned.
“Fascinating, Sissy,” said her current customer, use to the story. Maybe even kind of sick of the story. “Just a beer today.” He extended bills across the counter.
“Your money is no good here Ted and you know it.” It was the least she could do.
Sunklands 