“Aren’t you going to finish your triangles dearest?”
“In a minute,” answered Sarah Tucker to on again off again lover Al, watching the newest storm roll in from the many windowed establishment, orange in color and violet violent in nature. She wondered if the posing giants outside would have to save their ass. Again.
Nawt Vaya’s Vortexville. A weird place to live. We’ll come back soon for more out of this world fun.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0102, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya, Vortexville
“I’ve been betrayed? By a *triangle*??”
“I can explain.”
—–
He often thought of that day he found Elvira with a shape. Three corners and the truth, he knew after that. So far did he run to square and the extra corner that he didn’t have time to stop. Until today. Decision. The portal would be open again to New Mexico: 7:15 this morning. He could take his bike and just ride ride ride, never looking back. Stupid second world, he thought and almost spat on the ground, at least imagined it. The powers that be had a plan. He would blend in with a pack of choppers heading south from Los Lunas, become part of the pack itself. “Do whatever you have to to accomplish this important important mission,” spoke his most immediate boss. And so he found Nikki at Silver City when the rowdies that had been hounding him since almost the beginning finally and completely dropped away (siren calls just here there and there), rode alongside her until the Shakespearean end. He didn’t plan to fall in love on the other side but love happens, as they say. Yeah, he also thought of the triangle as he made his plans for the future with her, used that negative energy to propel himself away away away from Burro Alley and the possibility of return.
He sat here like a lifeguard on that fated day, actually imagining blonde Nikki from the future before (and below) him. Across the namesake cove, not quite in the corner but getting there: the 4th, the future — without Elvira, Our Second Lyfe, his triangle of bratty kids, pheh. “Elvira can take care of them,” he said aloud, still staring down at the form that had taken shape. “They all take after her anyway; best that like stays with like.” He refused to see his own brattiness, the bully that he’d become in his negative thinking about this that and that. So if Nikki likewise betrayed him… well, it won’t end pretty.
“How pretty,” he said, oblivious to this possibility.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0212, Nautilus, New Mexico, NORTH, Slaashsides
And so they traveled from Mountainair down to Lordsburg, Hucka Doobie’s old stomping grounds. Before she died and was reborn again anew in her old bee form. Now she’s progressed far enough back to human to also more closely examine her human past, pre-bee. She retracts her antennae for good and dives in. Would they make it? Would Duck prevent the success of the journey? The point is that they made it. And Antony at the bottom again or at least Anthony, two of ’em in fact; double the fun. Border towns both. It was not all about Anthony — unlike that other claim — but at least the first 7th was (approximation). I don’t have many friends. Let’s call him up.
“I have to take this,” he said to visiting Hucka Doobie and Barry DeBoy. The Devil, he knew, because of the timing.
“Hallo?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0201, New Mexico
She stared and stared but she couldn’t wish a day gone to return. Munday it is, Munday it remains. Like hamster. Hers should be coming soon.
She overhears some of the conversation from a couple of tables over; her purpose for being here. Something about channeling. Something about triangles.
—–
He walked into Slice, waiting for the mathematician. “Duck, please,” he tried at the counter. “No Duck: chicken,” said the Slice employee, a Mrs. Wiggins I believe. She didn’t even mention the hamster. She knew he wasn’t here for food and had to repel him that way. For emphasis she made the number 5 appear in one of her hands, a sign of non-acceptance or non-compliance. Stop, in other words. We don’t dispense that crap here.
“Barry?” Marsha “Pink” Krakow called over from Eyela’s former seat. She was finished with her hamster and sucking her teeth as inconspicuously as possible. The channeling/triangle couple had gone. She had absorbed again.
“… Mom? What… are you… doing here?”
Well you ordered a mathematician, she thought but didn’t say aloud. She should be at church and he should be at work. But they weren’t.
—-
“I’m just going to check that calculation with my phone, Mom. Hold on…
“Damn.” She’s good! he realized. This could work.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0402, Gold City, Jeogeot
“Man I can’t even look in your eyes today, you’re so small man. What’ll it be today Mickey Rooney? Duck?”
“Yes please.”
“You better return that cap to the St. Louie Cardinals, bro. Bro man. They’re need’n it for their shortstop, you know what I’m saying, yo?”
“Good… one.”
Gibson reaches into his pocket, pulls a bill out. The special kind belonging to Duck.
“Alright here you go Peewee,” he says while exchanging his own with Barry’s, knowing he always gets a head in a deal.
He moves on. He has no real fear of the larger man-boy similarly wearing a red cap, in his case dipped in the blood of a particularly hated and wounded-if-not-killed rival. He’s been here every day since Munday, that special new day of the week where you simultaneously go to work and go to church at once. Work-church. (S)pray. Barry was a kind of professional graffiti artist, the ones who have an unpronounceable name. Like Spock. He’d head to a particular wall-surface as soon as he made the purchase. 300, he thinks this morning. 300 Triangle. A number anyway. Maybe 112. He’s going to meet up with [delete name] afterwards, a mathematician, to decide. Slice.
—–
“What’ll it be today, Mrs. Gold? Duck?”
“Chicken, I think.” STOP
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0401, Gold City, Jeogeot
“”What’s wrong, honey? (no answer) Oh dear, are you channeling again? (no answer) Is it… the triangles?”
She sat there all glassy eyed for a while like 2 marbles were planted in her head in place of eyes. Then…
—–
“What you cooking today Eddy?!” shouted the runny man, passing by.
“Hot dogs!” he called back. “But made with veggie stew!”
“Cool! Catch you later, then!” Tom shouted, his voice receding in the distance as he headed toward the far corner of the strange, rectangular green pool that centered the apartment complex they both lived in, this Paradise Town as it liked to call itself. The pool begs to differ, because it also has a name, usually unspoken. Tried to be forgotten.
—–
Common denominator: umbrellas.
Well, Eric is not standing but the sentiment is definitely there. He’s reconstructed his Delta based blue and yellow tent in the Collagesity library, either skybox or ground, take your choice. Even both or neither if you wish, reader’s option. It could be time to get more of his story. “I’m assuming you’re a man, and not an Erica.”
“Correct,” he says in his dreams to us. Because he only exists on Delta and has those memories during sleep. When he wakes up, POOF. Gone.
“What happened?”
“I ran out of money what can I say. Life’s circumstances. But I got too far out, saw too many things.”
“UFOs?” I guessed.
He looked out his tent toward the New, toward the regulated pine forest across the meadow across the river. What he saw was inside that. We have more information.
Erik wakes up. He later sits at his visiting scholar writing desk watching the tent start to glow in his mind. “Strangest dream,” he mutters to himself. “Something is not right.”
“Who’s that?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0414, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus
Apologies to the reader: I couldn’t get a decent shot of Fern Wall or Fern Hole today. I certainly will return there and take additional photos on perhaps an overcast day, bringing out the colors more.
Moving on to Delta, then, just to the north, just up the cliff path following the River. In checking today, it kind of is a true delta, with the small stream at the head of it splitting into 2 smaller streams there, one proceeding down the southern side to the River, and the other following the northern border of the flat, triangular piece of land to same. So that’s North Branch, we’ll call it — and I guess this makes the feeder stream merely Branch to simplify — and South Branch, with River defining the 3rd side, or base, of the thing.
Below is a picture of a ruined tent near its center. Someone must have camped here for a while. Mystery Person. Or someone wanted to *indicate* that a person stayed here, hmm.
The Delta also contains several small trees (have to check what kind) with cow bones littered around their base. More symbols? Delta as location of the dead?
It just occurred to me that the site may have been manufactured. I’ll ponder on that strange idea further. The Delta may have been created, but perhaps not by man. Maybe humanoid but maybe not man.
Then it’s on to Mystery Cave this fair day, just north of Delta and visible from anywhere on its triangular territory. As I think I stated, I don’t believe this is a real cave, although I still haven’t examined the “mouth” (dark crevasse anyway) up close. Maybe tomorrow, slated to be another beautiful day in the NC mountains.
Appropriately, mysterious paths are found on the cliffs surrounding Mystery Cave, adding to the mystique of the location in general, Fern Hole/Wall, Delta, and Mystery Cave in toto. Oddly shaped trees, etc….
… with the etc. now including what appears to be a Monolith, again from the distance. I will also check this up close tomorrow, but on my hike today it clearly stuck out as peculiar. If it truly turns out to be worthy of the moniker Monolith then the person who camped on the Delta perhaps just turned into Erik. Or Eric. Or perhaps his son.
More soon.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0212, Blue Mountain, Country Park
It looks like a major question in the division of Lower Austra from the rest of Nautilus is the status of the Frog Islands, we’ll call them for now, beginning, west to east, with Brork, *Froog*, and Stoogle. Right now, Dickie Doom is in Stoogle, looking at a map that seems to indicate, with its drawn yellow line, the Frog Islands are part of larger Yd Island where we’ve just been through (wife? sister?) Debbie Doom. We’ll get back to her story in just a moment.
But then the picture changes and we are confused again. The Frog Islands seem to move through space and time.
Maybe it’s a situation of turning a frog into a prince again like in those other fairy tales.
Dickie Doom stands up. And spots another triangle.
Not bad.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0108, Collagesity Fordham, Frog Isles, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Yd Island^
“Oh fer sure,” spoke Filona beside Nipple, who had two points of focus, right and left, balanced by center (319). “You just turn left by the safety ovens… or is it right?” she asked Nipple, who knew but didn’t say. She just shook her head. Filona continued. “Anyways, we gots ta run, Lester. But, just saying, you’re the best(!).” For tonight, she thinks while redonning her neon roller skates, leaving both in the dust. Nipple realizes she had to interact with Lester, since they were left alone. Right? she thinks. I have to interact with him, yes? Lester starts.
“Soo. You wanna go on a date? Down to that place by the harbour?” Turns out Nipple didn’t know Filona, althought they appear together in that photo just above. Accidental conjunction; Lester, with Nipple all along, just wanted to know how to get down to the bay where he’d heard there was a bitch’n bristo that served Hot Molten Silver (alcoholic drink).
“See that booth over there, Tabitha? That’s the one that’s going to collapse and kill Mommy while she’s standing under it buying that watermelon in 10 years, in fact (she checks her watch), 10 years to the month day and even minute.” Tabitha understandably begins crying. “Oh shush shush baby girl. It’s just an asteroid. Crushes Mommy’s head like, well, like a watermelon.” She edges closer to the fated booth, the scene of the future tragedy that cost then 11 year old Tabitha her mother. On her own she was beyond that. No: instead taken in by the triangle, the 32×32, which caused the “accident” in the first place, or, to use its lingo, the “occident”.
Like Mork in Terry Gilliam’s “Fisher King” movie, Tabitha had clearly gone insane through the experiencing, BOOOMB!!!!
Mommy was the triangle from then on, the only intact piece left. She carried it around in her mind, in her brain. It spoke to her constantly, and was even hard to shut up. It then predicted its own death. In the past. “I’ll be standing just over there baby girl.”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0032, 0105, Nautilus, Yd Island^
Sunklands 