Compare with here from July of last year:
Then the other way…
July 14, 2018:
Here’s the part that confused me most about the orientation. The building in the immediate background of the last two pictures is basically the same, but has been turned *90 degrees clockwise* relative to its July 2018 position. We’re looking west here. Let’s take a gander north toward the same structure in the present and compare…
See what I mean? The “Have You Seen Me?” graffiti on the building has been switched over to a “Razor Bird Short and Sharp” one. Obviously the same “bird” represented, though.
We’re going inside…
Oh yes, this is where Hannah Montana decked up Mabel and her similarly “limed” robo pal Robert Drake Johns sat in the follow-up post from last July (“absorption”). Again, this has been turned sideways from before.
February 1, 2019
July 14, 2018
I believe I know who should still be here now.
She was having that nightmare about blood spilling out an elevator.
Later, she really wanted to eat that piece of chocolate raspberry cake but didn’t have the stomach.
“You can have it Tess.”
“I ain’t hungry neither this morning, Mabel. Mud again,” she summarized her own nightmare.
It was all Robert’s.
“Gimme, gimme, gimme,” he cried while reaching.
“I should be finished with journal 9 in 2 weeks or less, Robert Drake Johns. Then we will reassess the situation.”
“That’s great, Older Mabel,” spoke the tall, lime green robot seated beside her. His voice was nasal compared to most mechanoids of his type — Mabel designed him this way to appear slightly comical to her and help lighten the mood sometimes. Because the mood was dire in many instances. The Wastelands held nothing back.
“I’m wondering when The Monster will return,” started RDJ again. “Sally lives on the edge of the Deep Dunes but hasn’t seen or smelled anything in 2 weeks or more. The Axis powers may have won the war, but they haven’t been especially active conquerors… let us do what we please, when we please.”
“Oh they’re around.” She scribbles quickly once more. “Right now I’m seeing a narrow boat, mired deep in the high sands. Two children — no, a child and a man, actually an older man. Then another, observing man. No, sorry again, a woman but with many eyes, some which could be masculine. Actors and Observers again, Robert Drake Johns.”
“I miss my cousin,” said RDJ out of the blue. “I miss Cardboard. The character and not the substance, although that has disappeared too. All metal and rust now; little plastic as well.”
“And parchment,” added Mabel brightly. “Thank Gods for parchment.”