Tag Archives: Serenity Lane^^+

November 8, 2023 · 2:55 pm

00400612 (holiday rotting away)

A homeless person in Millers Pond looks across the sim line and takes pictures of neighboring Millbank before it’s too late and all the Halloween oddity over there goes away for another 10 or 11 months or so. Specifically, he’s recording a supposed secret meeting between Dr. Mouse and Dr. Brown not far from the mortuary and mental asylum where we first saw them in this here photo-novel: 40, fast drawing to a close itself. Which will last longer might be a question to be asking, Millbank or this?

Two went in, one came out. Murder. Most foul.

—–

“Pretend you’re a woman of that type, Dr. Brown,” Dr. Mouse said within, “with alll these temptations just sitting there all around you. Would you stay on the grounds?”

“No red blooded man *or* woman could resist,” spoke Dr. Brown, knowing human psychology and physiology all too well. Convex and concave — attraction. Irresistible, especially in that overall climate. And he didn’t forget concave to concave; applies here too. The institution Dr. Mouse set up will not hold the girl, a true Venus.

“Serenity Lane, yes,” spoke Dr. Mouse about the fairer sex aspect of the situation, having studied the combined files thoroughly by now. “Drugged her, then drugged her over to the prison, the mother mayor’s magical cuffs in place. Serenity loved Marsha just as much as she loved ex-wife Shelley before; would keep her around at any cost. Shelley… Johnston — Johnston, right?”

“Yeah. Think so,” answered Brown.

“And the other?” Dr. Mouse tested.

“Brown,” answered Brown.

—–

Mouse couldn’t take a chance on the name synchronicity. He’d have to find another second hand to go along with his first in the aberrant bomb clock of time that is their story. Tick tick tick goes the sim of Millbank. Tick tick tick goes the text of photo-novel 40. Oh what the heck, let’s just start with this house to destroy the evidence.

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October 22, 2023 · 10:41 am

00400501

When Marsha “Pink” Krakow returned to what she knew was her true home now, Big Sandy on the oldest Bellissaria continent, her Mother was waiting. With a big surprise. “I bought this for you,” she said to her shocked daughter after she arrived, indicating the trailer. “Pink, you see, or as close as I could get to that hot variation you prefer.” Edward, her Eddie, was already blackening his patented vegetable stew dogs on what Wheeler told him was his new grill. He was already sold.

“Oh. And that pink scooter you’re standing beside! What do you think?”

Marsha was thinking of *price*, not necessarily money price but emotional price. And here it comes.

“I can see you’re speechless, dearest. Come sit beside me and we’ll talk.” Wheeler patted the lounging couch across from her and then pulled out an apple to eat. “Price?” Marsha wanted to ask her so bad. “Price price price?” And here it comes.

“Have you talked to Serenity since you’ve been here (chomp, chew chew chew)? Never mind, dear, I know you have. You told her about Shelley, my *actual* daughter.”

“*I’m* your daughter,” she wanted to protest at this point, but knew it technically wasn’t true — in a way. Shelley provided the body and added a lot to the personality as well. But Brown was also there inside. Conscience? Mere gestures? She wasn’t quite sure yet about the so-called 3rd component, the last of a trilogy. And then herself up front and on top of course, resurrected from what happened in photo-novel 19 that she doesn’t like to think about a lot. Cook for the Ozmo Devils. Dead in the head in bed like Jed. “Why didn’t you tell me about Serenity?” she actually said aloud. “That she wasn’t her cousin but her *wife*?”

“Oh it’s just one of those things that slips the mind (chomp; chew, chew, chew). Lots of important stuff going on up there,” and here she pauses in her apple eating to tap on her forehead. “I’m still the mayor of that damn Meat City and its dominant male energy. *I’m* more male than them, despite the body, the femininity,” she decided to put it. Marsha understood. Her mother had to put the town council (etc.) in their place or they’d gain the upper hand again, the blame misogynists. Dominant sex, *pheh*. Marsha had to do the same with her Eddie in a lesser way. It’s just how men are raised in our society in part, she figured. So she didn’t blame him *all* that much for his own, lesser brand of the disease of the mind.

Marsha had to ask this next”: “W-why, then, oh why… did you put me in prison? Turn me into a *doll* Feed me those drugs through my head to think that I *wasn’t* in prison but next door, singing karaoke until the wee hours of the night? With the fake doll looking on?”

“Rockaway Beach?” Wheeler started her answer, citing the name of the first place which was also its location. “Kenzie’s Korner in Kuradov?” she said the same about the second. Now the circumstances.

(to be continued)

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October 9, 2023 · 4:21 pm

00400316

At 11, Ketchup Tom came a knocking at the door. Serenity Lane crept in from the opposite direction while he did, wondering why the punk was here as well. Sleepy Eddie rouses himself, steps over still snoozing Dogg by the bed, answers the door. But there was nobody there. It was all because of what was spoken by Marsha and, er, Bethany, um, Ginger — Mrs. Ordinary — at the tiny cafe just across the Big Channel. Because they were figuring out stuff, enough to cause ghost realities to suddenly rez in, probabilities to come into the light which didn’t exist before. Ketchup and Serenity showing up at Marsha’s door at the same time. They had the same goal in mind was the symbolism. And Eddie was in the middle which was unfortunately in the way. But they didn’t get the chance to tell Eddie since the probable reality evaporated when Mrs. Ordinary paid the expensive bill, rum not being cheap in these here parts. Things like this happen more than you realize, folks. It’s all in the books. Eddie goes back to bed, writing off the knocks as part of a dream. A different kind of sleep, then, he’s in.

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October 9, 2023 · 3:17 pm

great and powerful

When she got back from her trip to the Pleiades which wasn’t the Pleiades, Mrs. Ordinary found everything around her to be mundane, just *blah*. Sand sand sand from north to south in this here Big Sandy she called home, yellow, long and boring. She needed to spice up her life with a bit of extra, like she had while aboard the USS Galaxy, certainly not boring atall, although they had to get through that one giant meteor in the way by boring through it via a lasered out hole. Definitely excitement there!

She put down her boring book about Atlantis, Easter Island and such and rang up neighbor Marsha “Pink” Krakow, seeing if she wanted to get together for some tea, something different for her day. She’d heard of a tiny cafe opening up in Pugwash just across the Big Channel. She checked before she called — open at 7, the website stated. 7:05am now. Just in time for an early breakfast too since she saw they had flapjacks available, her favorite.

Marsha beside her Eddie in bed yawned before answering her cell phone. First thought: Mom has the shingles again and I have to come down and take care of her. But she checked the number before swiping. Unknown, the indicator indicated. Relief. She swiped.

“Hello, Marsha? It’s Bethany, er, Ginger. Listen, just wondering if you wanted to catch an early breakfast at that new place just across the Big Channel. I checked: open at 7. Seats are limited so figured I’d call now to see if you’re up for it.”

Marsha yawned again, glanced over at her Sleeping Beauty comfortably snoozing away, and said, “Sure. Just give me 15 minutes to change and I’ll meet you there.” She needed a friend to talk to as well. Life, Second or not, was getting more and more complicated, what with Ketchup Tom and now Serenity Lane entering the picture in this here section.

—–

“Oh the light’s just beautiful here. Isn’t it beautiful?” Different* from where I live, she ponders, looking up into the sky to see if she can spot the Pleiades before the harsh sun washes all the night time away. No luck.

“Sure thing, er, Ginger.” Was it Ginger? Marsha “Pink” Krakow still wasn’t sure. They had finished their flapjacks, 1 apiece since both were on some kind of diets. Look at her, Marsha was thinking prior to ordering; so trim! But Mrs. Ordinary was thinking the same thing about Marsha. And so the one flapjack apiece, easy on the syrup. Then afterwards, not tea but rum, Mrs. Ordinary decided, which Marsha went along with. Why not? She could sober up on whatever little drunkenness occurred before Eddie even stirs out of his slumber, 12 o’clock being the earliest he rises since his early retirement in March of last year. Lots of money in records management outside the public sector. And he worked for the rock industry, Ozmo Daredevils, Ozzie Osbourne and the like. For the former, he chronicled how “Jackie Pink” turned into “Jackie Blue” in the company blog, which brought him to the attention of curious Marsha wondering about her own “Pink” name and how it came to be. Through it she learned that boys and girls use to be dressed in pink and blue respectively back in the 50s 30s instead of visa versa. And so it began.

(to be continued)

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October 7, 2023 · 3:09 pm

X factor

“I’ve decided not to write trash, Eddie, my Edward.”

“Call me Eddie,” he repeated. She never listened. Much like “cousin” Tessa to Edward, the *real* Edward.

So many faux cousin/lover pairings in this novel already, and we’re not even halfway through quite yet. First there was Eddie and Edward, the faux being affixed to the lover part in that case. Then Tessa and Edward, cousin linked with faux in that example. And now supposed cousins Serenity Lane and Shelley Lane (Struthers). Let’s just have Marsha “Pink” Krakow bring up the last pairing to Edward as they’re laying in bed in their 2n1 trailer, wishing to have their cake and eat it too again.

“Edward?” she said after thinking some of these things herself, mirroring the actual author (me) once more.

“Yes?” he relented, not bothering to correct her now.

“As I was saying…”

“Oz. I know. Rock told me all about it. And Gill. What do you call him? Vain and Artery Boyy, right. And the child as well.”

“Toddles,” she said to this. To please a child, she thought.

“All 3 approached me, Rock and Toddles and then Vain and Artery Boyy separate from them. Told me how much they enjoyed the new novel and the switch of genres and how they hoped you keep it up.”

“Oh. Wonderful! I wonder why they didn’t tell me themselves?”

“Probably…” he shifts his weight in the bed, assuming a more upright position, “because you were visiting that large prison complex over in Rockaway Beach. I myself didn’t have time to tell you until now. Had to keep reinforcing to you that it’s all right, and the, ahem, tour will be over soon.”

“Took some time to get from top to bottom, yeah,” she admitted. She got pretty scared about halfway down, even though the internal bowling alley reassured her that TILE was there, even amongst all this negativity. The light shines through.

Eddie, her Edward, was with her after that — called him over. “So. Are you going to go in that direction, go back to Meat City? Or stay here in Big Sandy?”

Was that the ultimate question? Past Broadwater, the grid took over, Utah to Omega link locked in again until it bent away on the other side of town. She saw this now. She *had* to see.

“Let’s give it a couple more posts,” which is probably what I would have said in her shoes. She decided not to bring up that Serenity Lane wasn’t Shelley’s cousin but her ex-lover, her ex-wife in fact. And now since Shelley was out of the picture she apparently has designs on the “replacement”. Drugged back to Meat City against her will!  Prison of all places. She could have spent one day there, she could have spent a lifetime there. Big. Practically Big Sandy big sitting up there wide and long and thick in the sky.

Back to the sand the way she knew how. With Edward.

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October 4, 2023 · 7:44 am

Man Square revisited

“Superman!” she remembered to correct about the vision from photo-novels past inspired by her writing. “Apeman and Superman on either side. And then Tinsman, like in ‘The Wizard of Oz’.”

“Interesting,” Serenity said to this, having been an L. Frank Baum and Judy Garland fan for years. She liked the ruby slippers.

“And then… can’t quite make out the last. Anyway, the *4th* we’ll call this man. *Imaginary*”, she recalled. “An imaginary man. Not real.”

“Virtual?” Serenity tried to guess.

“No, nothing like that. Something incomplete.” She put her finger to lip and started to think even deeper. I believe she may have even fallen asleep on the spot, perhaps from lack of nutrition. Yes, let’s go with that.

She had a dream where she was the sponge, the little square being from that television show. Bahahaha! she heard coming out of his mouth. He didn’t understand the square before him at all the Tinsman beside it was explaining, even if he was the same. Other shapes would have to be pulled in.

She woke up beside Serenity in the bed. Had she been drugged instead?

“I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. Shelley who?” she attempted to joke once more, and rolled a bit of Marsha’s pumpkin blonde hair around her little finger in a loving gesture that perhaps Brown within would appreciate most of all.

(to be continued)

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October 4, 2023 · 4:36 am

00400306

“The guy in the pineapple?” she said. “Yeah, I know him. Of him.”

We were back in the trailer of Serenity Lane, a neighbor not far off to the south. Marsha “Pink” Krakow ran out of cereal and was going door to door to see if anyone had a box of something — anything — to lend her this morning, being the addict she was. Serenity was first on the list, since she was the only green dot around. So maybe last on the list too. Marsha found it to be a very successful visit in more ways than one. Before she left with the box Serenity said she could even keep and that she was an addict herself in that department and that she already had one box of that particular brand so have at it, Marsha decided to stay put for a while and talk to the affable avatar of 16 years, old even for this area.

“How’s the 3-n-1 going?” Serenity started the post-cereal procurement conversation after laying down on the bed in what Marsha thought was a bit of a provocative pose. Is Serenity gay? she couldn’t help thinking. *No*, Marsha. Get your head out of the gutter for a change! She’s just a potential *friend*, which you need desperately (she kept thinking).

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve found a boyfriend or decided on a boyfriend I guess is a better way to put it. Eddie D’Aigle, from even down south of you here. In Soggy Bottom, near the bottom of Big Sandy. I suppose at one time it was even soggy,” she tried to joke.

“Hmm,” she said. “Do you know Fred down there, then? Fred Mercury. Came to the sand and the sea to help his complexion.”

“I… don’t think so.”

“Anyway, you were telling me about the 3-n-1; how it’s going.”

“Great. Like I said, I have Edward–”

“So you’re dealing with the other two within. Who was it — Shelley of course, my cousin, or who *use* to be my cousin.”

“Still is,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow reinforced. “She’s still in there.” Marsha didn’t add that she just “escaped” last night and went on a bit of a wild spree, Brown in tow. “And Brown,” Marsha remembered to add.

“The… gasper, you described her. The 3rd. Gesturer. But not Jester,” Serenity attempted her own weak joke. They were getting along swell, Marsha thought here. A potential friend indeed.

“Right. The 3rd.”

I’m trying to remember when and how Marsha brought up Spongebub and the crop circles. Probably when she revealed what she was writing about to Serenity as they got even closer, but *not* one on top of the other. Yes, let’s go with that.

“So I sat back and looked at what I just wrote — trying to do it in the style of Shelley, you understand.”

“I understand.” Serenity had had her own big bowl of Kellogg’s Woot Loops about a 1/2 hour back, just before Marsha showed up. So she was happy to keep talking. Marsha, however, found her stomach starting to rumble. She didn’t have much longer before she needed to leave. Better be quick about it. Thus the talk about the writing, the core of the mystery, she felt. If Serenity understood this, then she checked off the biggest box in the friend application process.

“Bone to spaceship, obvious reference to 2001. Which made me start thinking about men.”

“Sure it did,” Serenity attempted to quip about the bone part.

“No, 2 men.”

“Even better!”

“*No* (huff!). It was an Apeman and then a Spaceman. I knew this to be true. Past and future combined into something not quite as good as either separately. But that wasn’t all. There were 2 other men on either side. I suppose I would be in the center, watching it all, as on a television show. Do… do you know of Spongebub, the square little fellow who lives under the water with mates Starr and Squid?”

And this is where we came in.

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September 18, 2023 · 1:29 am

sounds like Serendipity (people call her Dip)

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know about your cousin.”

“Thanks, Marsha. We haven’t really interacted with each other in years. But: ‘preciate the news.” She takes another drag off her cigarette, this Serenity Lane, related to Shelley Lane through their fathers who are brothers, she said.

“It’s not like she’s totally gone, though. She’s in here.” And Marsha pointed to her heart to indicate the inside nature of the other Lane now. “Actually she provided me with the (grown up) body during the conversion. The other one, a girl named Brown, provided the gestures and maybe the conscience of the conceived entity.”

“You,” spoke Serenity, still trying to wrap her brain around the concept. A three-in-one, she pondered. Another drag. That means…

“Yes, I’m Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow still,” Marsha continued, “because of the hair, the hot pink clothes and shoes. But mainly the hair.” She tugged at it, indicating it wasn’t a wig and that it was a permanent part of the body now. Unlike before. Although she had an important add-on of similar tint. Some pigtails. She was waiting for that special someone to show the thing off to. She’s working on it by process of elimination, Arthur Kill (hubby to Shelley) already decided upon and sent away. Next up: Edward Daigle, the fantasy boyfriend inside the novels which were as real as the outside, one penetrating and interweaving with the other. She had a hard time telling them apart any more. But that was yesterday. Today is today. So odd she finds the 1st cousin of one of her 3 constituents in Big Sandy, and not far from the central Rocky Comfort atall, just over the sound from it. Maybe it’s the actual reason she came here. She’s finding many odd things about the region, starting with multiple giant bugs.

“How long have you been here? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not atall.” She put out the cigarette in the palm of her other hand and then used the same to count years, no sign of pain detected and no burn mark left. Magic, we can guess, which would continue. “One two three four five,” she said, indicating the fingers in order from thumb to pinkie on the somehow undamaged hand, then again: “six seven eight, let’s see, nine. Nine years.”

Marsha “Pink” Krakow knew the original continent of the Bellissaria complex was only formed 5 years ago. So either Serenity was lying or she was living in an alternate universe where time operated differently. Turns out it was the latter.

(to be continued)

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January 9, 2020 · 9:05 am

Serenity again

He was just a kooky old Japanese guy on permanent vacation. But at least he brought his slippers to Rose-, er, this *place*, unlike fellow vacationer Donald Farr before him earlier this winter. He’d heard the robot play the 2 “Gouldberg Variations” in a row, a realm favorite thanks to Merry. Bookends they were, and belonged together as one. Now he was ready for Zoidboro’s sermon at the Church of the Fly Lord behind him here. Perhaps he’d meet Peter today. Parasol said he would like him. Another old dude. And spoke a bit of Japanese, even.

—–

“The world is a windshield,” Zoidboro preached through tentacle covered mouth, “waiting to take you out when you least suspect it. Take Little Timmy Flick last week over on Highway 52 behind the old Tastee Freeze. Take Thomas the Elder this past Tuesday before the last Wednesday after Monday’s Friday at the Yoko Ona Parody Museum, in the parking lot even. Yea, parking lots can be dangerous too. Central parking lots especially. To get to a Square, you must always Times something….”

Ji-San turned to the man sitting next to him and spoke low beneath the sermon. “Are you per chance Peter?”

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