Tag Archives: Richard

Peterstown

“Golf course. Par three. Hole in one. 1967. (pause) 28064212. (pause) LOST.”

“Bozo,” I said. “Boz*oo*.”

“Nepotism,” he followed quickly. “Nephew. New.”

“But not you.”

Richard vanished. Another took his place.

“Nephew?”

“To some. To a few,” the young man said.

“Is your name Peter?”

“To most. To a lot.”

“Are you well known?”

“I. Am.”

“Why do you keep flashing my name above your head.”

“*You* are well known.”

“Hmm. What are you doing here? In this palace?”

“It’s a hotel,” Peter replied. “Can you read?”

“… the land description, yes. (longer pause) So it’s *real*.”

“Kind of,” he said. Peter sat up, exposing less white legs beneath sinking bathing trunks. He was quite sun baked. From Hawaii he was.

“Why do you receive favors?” I continued.

“From Uncle Babyface?” he returned, already knowing my answer. “It’s a nephew thing.”

“I know that. Why are you here? What is your relationship to The Kidd over in Middletown, just across the strait from here? Your uncle can see your place…”

“*My* place?” he questioned, then was gone.

I took off my hat and scratched my head.

I sat there for a long time afterwards reading a book about squirrels.

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Filed under *Second Life, Jeogeot, Middletown, Uncategorized

kiss

The last of town’s apple trees would have to be moved, along with the last amphibian (Brazilian Bill).

Richard and Paula too.

The town Rodeo could be slid over to the old Appalachian Spring. For Billie was coming.

Baker Bloch was aiming for a 2 week stay but it might be longer, Gods willing. Mr. Babyface had already come from across the sea. Greg Ogden as well. How about the upper 8 floors beyond the 4 inhabited ones? Kidd Tower has a fairly long history in Collagesity and, before that, VWX Town. It had its beginnings in the Sikkima sinkhole — late 2012 or early 2013. Buildings also remember their history. And now one has come alive as a flesh and blood creature. We’ve lost Terry, true, but another fills his footprint. Not a man, not even a big boy. Not even a boy.


Royal Princess.

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Filed under *Second Life, Jeogeot, Middletown, Uncategorized

Morrison

“You’re back Clyde.”

“Yes, Richard,” answers the pink lady-elephant. “But it’s Bonnie.”

“Where’s Gregg?” asks Richard.

“You mean Stan? He said he was on his way. What are you guys up to tonight?”

“Nothing. Heard you got a new band Clyde.”

Bonnie shakes her head. “*Howard* has a new band. That’s my twin brother. They call themselves Leona, yes. Just rehearsing so far, I’ve heard.”

“Blackstars,” says Ziffie the smaller pink elephant on the bar stool to Richard’s left.

“What was that?” Richard asks down to him.

“The name of the band,” Ziffie explains, “is now Blackstars. I think it’s a David Bowie tribute band, but Garson sued and put them in their place.”

“Who’s Garson?” asked the man in the scary rabbit costume.

“Former Bowie keyboardist. ‘Alladin Sane’, ‘Outside’… list goes on.”

“But mainly ‘Alladin Sane’,” pipes up Ziffie again.

“Yes,” agrees Bonnie. “More the (title) song and not the album.”

“Improvisor,” inserts Ziffie.

“Right you are, cousin. Three time’s the charm.”

Stan comes strolling into the cafe.

“What’s up homies?”

“Blackstars,” says Bonnie.

“Blackstars,” Ziffie quickly follows.

Bonnie and Ziffie stare at Richard, pressuring him. He relents. “Hmmm. Blackstars I suppose.”

“Cool. Let’s you and me, Richard, go see the new crop of dead people over at Pervimus’ Gathering Bar.”

Instead of answering, Richard goes up and smells Stan. “That a new perfume, honey?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Heterocera, Morrison, Uncategorized