Tag Archives: HANGING

trunks

Shelley loves hanging around the beach. Arthur and she have such a great time night after night, day after day here… in Mortons Gap overall. She could see living here, staying here. A bit laggy, but they’re working on it, reducing shaders, draw distance, etc. Even minimizing screens, their view on the world, if needed. It wasn’t ideal. But — so pretty.


If she could just erase that full moon faux pas from her memory. What did Arthur do that night? she wondered for certainly not the first time. Because she’d found lipstick on his coat which wasn’t hers — she rarely uses it except when they hit the town. And the smell of lobsters. Or was it crabs? — she’d have to check the difference between the 2 later on when they walk down to the fisheries. Do it nice and subtle.

Nearby Arthur was building another one of his patented sand castles, complete with ants that he’d found on the vegetated dunes in back. He was trying to recreate the past. In truth, someone had put a spell on him. George/Musician most likely, if only from his dreams. He wanted to walk up to the real Ant Castle later that day, thus Shelley’s excuse to visit the fisheries kind of on the way. Ah heck, she’ll just ask him. Why does she care if he stayed with another woman that night. *She* was with a woman that night. Served her right. Painful, very painful, but… what was the right expression for it? Tit for tat, she decided. Or tit for tit — something.

She swung down from the palm tree, walked over. “About ready to go?”

He was about to coronate the new king and queen of the ants after building their thrones. “5 more minutes,” he requested, herding the crowd in the right direction.

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hanging around

“I had a dream about Dub again last night. Talked to him over on that couch again.”

“Black dude?”

“Yeah. Asked him about the jungle, how I get back. He picked up a guitar with no strings.”

“Oh. New (!).”

“Yeah, and he played it, but it sounded like a recording, with the echo and all.”

“A dub. Guitar dub.”

“In a way I suppose.” She reached over, took his hand. If she could only play the strings to *his* heart.

—–

“It must have been that book you were reading. By the hot tub. Up above the main pool.”

“I recall.”

“Was the jungle mentioned specifically within?”

She thought back. “Can’t recall (that).”

He sipped on his Russian Roulette, borrowed from her earlier. Said her stomach was a little upset from before. The tension, she excused herself. Both blamed each other, and then, afterwards, themselves.

—–

“Are you going to go back into the box now?”

She thought about it. “I’ve decided… that 777 dollars is quite reasonable for something we can, er, style together. I don’t want to be a slave prisoner. I want to be a woman. Shackles removed.”

“I see.” Arthur Kill thought about this. Liz remained the ultimate goal, how to get there, how to *make*. Singularity awaiting, even looming by this point. A black hole and white hole together. Ylem.

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