Tag Archives: Jeffrie Phillips^*++

August 5, 2020 · 8:26 am

locations

Jeffrie Phillips decides to try something different out with Charlene the punk tonight. “Are you there?” he im’s her.

“Yeah, I think so,” she replies back after a lag in her parallel spot. “There’s a rhino, so…”

“Yep, that’s it. So… go ahead and see if you can get through the door. Then I’ll try with the gate.”

—–

“What happened to your last girl?” asked new gal pal Hina 3 days later at Teepot’s sake bar (and art gallery).

“Ah, she was just in a different place than me,” he spoke truthfully. “I wish her well.”

“Your place or mine?” Hina then asked boldly, not wanting to waste the moment.

“Mine.” But Jeffrie returned to his downtown apartment alone and without another tag along girl. He seemed to be flipping through them more rapidly these days. Must be the heat, he wrote to end.

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August 4, 2020 · 8:17 am

lodge

“Audrey’s place,” he spoke over to still tagging along Charlene. He didn’t mind, as long as he could use her for a sounding board every couple of minutes. “Right down there. With *him*. I see their green dots in the middle of the night. I know what they do.”

“Jeffrie,” she urged.

“I know, I know.” Jeffrie Phillips sighed. “Stop dwelling.”

—–

But he couldn’t. Next stop: the Gasthause, as close as Jeffrie (and Charlene) could get without actually trespassing on *his* property. The doctor. I bet he is, I bet he is, Jeffrie Phillips thought over and over in his mind as he stared up toward the structure owned by a man from the future. And the past. Along with the present of course. He said his thoughts aloud again. It was here, for the 12th time today (not coincidentally, the amount of sounding board moments between Jeffrie and herself), Charlene considered leaving this clearly possessed man. Audrey, Audrey, Audrey. That’s *all* he ponders about.

“You don’t understand,” he defended himself after being called out again. “I was just wandering around, having a good time, poking my head in here and there. When I stumbled into that cabin and found *her* chair. Just sitting there. Like a sacred altar — which it was, actually. For me, and her. When we were *together*.”

Ah, a secret submissive, though Charlene here, understanding more in the moment. She knew about such chairs. Well — *two* can play that game.

“*I* have a chair. Back at my place in Colona.”

“Won’t be the same,” he quickly replied, putting her in her place again. Audrey was queen. She was merely a pawn in a much bigger game.

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August 3, 2020 · 9:23 am

philosopher’s stone

He stood back after setting down the vibrating green geode next to his considerably smaller pink geode on the stairwell table and watched them excitedly *coordinate* (adjust in size to become equal, then “kiss”). They are merged now. 2n1. What happens next will be up to them.

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August 3, 2020 · 8:24 am

magic shop

“Yeah, I’ve got one like it back home,” Jeffrie Phillips speaks about the geode on the mantlepiece before him. ‘Cept mine is pink and and *maybe* a tiny bit smaller, maybe.” Much smaller, he thinks here. But I like it just as much. Not everything has to be *big*, pheh. Except in — well, he’s got that department covered anyway, he he. He can always lord that over the people he meets. The girls flock to him, Charlene the punk being only the latest in a long line. Too bad she liked the catacombs. I was hoping I could get rid of her that way. But her mettle has been put to the test and she survived. Round 2 coming up — only about a 1/3rd make it to round 2.

“Do you know what you have to do?” Jeffrie Phillips knew that David A.B.’s diamond-like brain lie within this new host with voice deep and bass. He couldn’t look him in the whites of his eyes. This never happened.

“Um.” Jeffrie instead looks down at his shoes randomly scuffing the floor. “Sure.”

“You must coordinate the two places, there and here. This is a connector. Take it and place it with the other one. Make sure they face each other. You know the rest.”

Jeffrie Phillips didn’t know the rest but he could guess. Alchemical sex, large to small, or one inside the other. Maybe he shouldn’t have lied about the size. He decides to tell the new host. “Listen, um, Jim.”

But Jim would have nothing of it. “Coordinate!” he demanded, which made Jeffrie Phillips quickly gather up the green geode and high tail it outta there.

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August 2, 2020 · 9:52 am

Sunday

Two days later they met at the marina down by the sea. Jeffrey Phillips continued his story he began alongside the second breakfast pizza on Friday. “I realized that this place was kind of like the Virgin Islands — St. Croix — with its twin cities. Duncan was here now after all. We tried *so* hard to recruit him. I had the Psycho help. King I believe was his last name. ‘Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes,’ he told me King told him. He played national player of the year Mourning to a draw, but that was the other one, the other Duncan.”

“I’m confused,” shouted Charlene the punk over the now crashing waves. Jeffrey realized they should move some place quieter. “Come with me,” he exclaimed. “I want to show you something else.” They were heading for the catacombs.

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August 2, 2020 · 8:49 am

confession

Afterwards he left Charlene upstairs and came back down to write. He like to wear his facelight while alone here, and also switch on the little lamp on the desk to illuminate his manuscript even further. Bright ideas deserve bright light, he pondered brightly. Like ideas were constantly flashing in his head, giving the impression or at least a hint of the all consuming ever-light, his alchemical goal. Union with Audrey, union with the light, Dr. Nightwing conveniently sucked away into a midnight black hole — or something. The light is flickering more off than on again.

—–

They ate leftover pizza for breakfast. “What’re you going to do today sweetest?” spoke Charlene the punk after finishing the first pie and sitting down with a second. Jeffrie breathed out. What *was* he going to do today? “We could go, I don’t know…” He couldn’t keep up the ruse. “*I’m* going to go walking — out in the woods around the town.” Charlene stared at him, tears forming in her eyes. “It’s never going to work between us.” “No,” came his quick response. She knew this was all about Audrey — he couldn’t stop yammering on about her last night. Okay, okay, she’ll accept this. She had a good time with Jeffrie. The sex was great! What a tiger. She voiced her opinion — her *certainty*. “Audrey?” he replied to this. “I guess.” On his part, he thought back to the highly illuminated manuscript and what he had written on it. I suppose one could equate it with a post of a blog type. Like this post here, actually. Yeah, that’s it. He was speaking to Charlene the punk and in the post at once.

“There’s — this doctor she met.”

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August 2, 2020 · 8:08 am

no rush

Jeffrie Phillips was waiting for someone in Teepot, perhaps that cute punk he propositioned yesterday.

Yes, there she is, with the relationship evolved enough to a point where she’s asking him to choose from the lot of them again. But he only has one in his heart: Audrey. The rest are distractions, pretty baubles for him to pick up and admire. She’s with Dr. Nightwing, though. Out on one of their “missions” once more. If only he and Mystic Girl would get together instead — another companion. But right now it was Audrey. He stares up at the stars. Probably on Cygnus X-9 or some far away place like that. He thinks of black holes. He looks at Charlene. He thinks of holes.

—–

“Nothing on the tube tonight, baby. Looks like we’ll have to go upstairs.” But she had no clear vision of where the relationship was going and thus having none of it.

Actually upon checking from behind she does have an angle for viewing. “Okay, let’s go for it,” she agreed after this pause to take another snapshot.

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April 30, 2020 · 6:59 pm

Barry? Come in, Barry.

She was just finishing up Movement 3 of the Platinum Prune suite of songs, popular in Corsica Prime these days. Her hands lift from the keyboard after an ending chord of complex expression.

“There. 3 of 5 done. Or is it 6? Jeffrie, be a dear and pull up the big fat map of the continent for all to see where we are presently.”

Listening Jeffrie on a nearby couch complied.

“*4* of 5,” exclaimed Audrey, looking beyond the facade of Our Second Life into the frame of it all. “Lordly I must have been on the wrong movement after all. We’re at Drane Hill!”

She peered remotely beyond the juxtaposed black and white statues outside toward the hill above the cabin they rented last night, all out in the air and exposed and without any attached Big Inside at all, unlike the story with Storybrook and its Kraken Hill. Marsha “Pink” Krakow and her family, kin and extended, should be arriving soon to breathe in the fresh air of a new location, feet grounded again.

And I suspect wannabe famous novelist Barry X. Vampire is around as well, given the red beam and all.

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April 30, 2020 · 10:27 am

destiny

Well, I’ve explored the Xuxorr Plateau as David A.B. instructed me to. Now what?

Hold on. What’s this? Perhaps a village? A place to bed down for the night, perchance to shack up with a local lass, hehe? I sure miss Audrey. But she screwed me over with Marty and I can’t let that pass. She has deceived me, *killed* me even. No way I’m going back!

—–

“I knew you’d come back you Jeffrie Phillips.”

“Just read me some more from that magic book,” he demanded, pissed off that his hips had overridden his head once more.

Audrey nimbly leaned way over and picked it up off the rug where she had thrown it earlier in their sudden passion for reconciliation. They knew it couldn’t be damaged. She deftly thumbed to page 56 where they had left off…

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March 15, 2020 · 7:10 am

bar downstairs

Jeffrie Phillips had come to the end of the book. Arthur Kill eyed him keenly from the piano which he had no ability to play. His music was death. Death to Big Black Smoke, death to Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child, death to perhaps Jeffrie Phillips too. If he so chooses. The eyeing continues.

“Well… what did you think?” asks Marty from a nearby stool about the tome detailing the history of the bar and Urqhart in general. Spanking new girlfriend Linda Halsey, fresh from a broken relationship down in Adgatetown on the lower coast, was by his side, holding his arm even preoccupied with her own thoughts at the moment. I wonder how David Newton Jasper is doing, alone with his Chalcedony and other progressive math rock albums? Fine, she then thinks, imagining him playing air guitar again. How many times? She had to leave (like all the others), looks be damned.

Jeffrie Phillips decides to answer Marty since Linda’s internal monologue seemed to be over. “It was… interesting.”

“Do you understand now why we have to eliminate ‘Love Peace’, eliminate the smoke screen that was the Summer of Love, ’66 or ’67 take your pick? There is no Love. There is no Peace. This must be *revealed*.”

Arthur Kill nods agreeably from the dormant piano. This is why he sticks with Marty. Through thick and thin, the cynicism always shines through. It attracts him like a dim moth to bright light. I think of the bug again here…

Jeffrie stares out the dappled window beyond the bikes in the parking lot into the heart of the Indian Lake/Sox Pond basin. Started right here in this bar, eh? 1919 huh — double 19’s. Scandal. Black. Indian… red. White.

Phillips rezzes a local, vanilla style paper without any red atall to take his mind off the quandary, which gives Arthur Kill his cue (*pop*!). Our story must continue elsewhere.

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