Tag Archives: SKIRTING

Big Red Machine (skirted)

She could of course still summon him when needed, like during meditation. Not the meditation itself for the need but what usually came after, another afterthought of sorts, the byproduct of two souls being one. If she falls, he falls, so intertwined are their individual pieces by now. Which will inevitably happen: all things spring up and all things fall back, product of the clocks and the seasons. Always blue yellow blue yellow to go along with green red green red, if you will. A complete TILE is the only way to revolve in time. They had understood this ages ago, back when they were still kits, still in the box yet to be correctly assembled by the mother, the father. They’d tried once before, but left out some parts and the whole thing fell to Hell, a screw missing here, a joint missing there. But when they finally followed the instructions the way they were suppose to be: perfection. A girl and a boy both. Adam and Eve reborn. “I will call the female X,” the mother said, approved for such things. “And the boy: Z,” the father said, looking down on his own and then glancing over at what the wife had done, seeing it was good too. “We have done well Myrtle. My Myrtle Beech.” Sand was in his eye; he was dreaming but it was still real, just as X and Z, later Xia and Zimmy, were real. One could absorb the other if needed for protection. X could move up to Z and Z down to X. But given the circumstances of Constantynople and the arrangement at the top of the Kidd Tower, it had to be this way: Z to X. Mr. Babyface stares from his staring chair, understanding this. “Xilted,” he says, knowing it was behind him as well and no longer Zebrasil now two floors above in the alphabet. The Gods have spoken.

“Zebrasil,” he said, staring up through the transparent canopy of the bed and thinking of top vs. bottom and bottom vs. top. “Xilted,” she said in turn, pondering the same. There were degrees to it, well 3 that they could count in the current game. The 4th would represent the Null, the Void, the Absent; the return to home. Nothing to keep them apart. They were just on the surface still, first base yet to be encountered.  No sin in Cincinnati.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0409, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

barn raised

Backpack loaded even more down than usual, Mr. Z sets off for the opposite coast, Southside some call it, more private than public as “Northside” here is more public than private.

He drops down beside the yellow ickle who bids him farewell and says he wishes he could go as well. Mr. Z points out that he’s a figurine and not really an avatar able to move about or he’d gladly take him along with him, if only to help carry his heavy pack. “Thank you,” the ickle said to this, happy to be even thought of.

Below Constantynople, he quickly encounters elephants where once was an empty Abyss, and not too long ago. Despite a tiger also being in their mix, he safely makes his way to the ridge in the distance that marks the boundary of Myrtle’s property, the highest point on the island despite being only about 15 meters above sea level.

Finding the Passable Property Corner (PPC), he successfully bypasses the ridge to entering Myrtle’s public part.

Damn. Forgot to close the outhouse door, she thought while staring at it from the single room she lived in, which Mr. Z. subsequently has to walk by to get to the house.

Cow, eh? How appropriate. He ignores the lingering smell while skirting, sights set on his goal.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0407, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390109

At the first mountain pond, low but discernible as such, he spotted one of those famous angle fish he’d heard about. But angle only mirrors angle as it turns out, as in the corner of the sim of Carumba just beyond where it meets up with Tickle Ridge, Beaver Lagoon, and Westvale. With his lower draw to reduce lag, Al could only see flatter ground from here on up. What was there to skirt? It all seemed like a trap. He rang up Tom again.

“Get out, abort,” came the suggestion, nay, order from his superior being. “We’ll start again in this direction soon. Regroup at the Bellissaria Homeless Union. There are other people there, I’m sensing now, that you need to interact with. Try to find the turtle for real this time. Maybe even Bart,” even though Tom knew this would be more illusive and the equivalent of finding the goose that laid the golden egg. Could he, can he? There was a reason the ridge dwindled to nothing past Cowabunga. Tom didn’t remember that. Space and perhaps time were being altered.

Never mind that Al was wrong and that the ridge continued a little west of where he was looking, low but discernible again if you remove the hiding trees from his angle. Fate dictated he return to the coast. And he forgot to take care of procuring that stick, which he took as an omen too.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0109, Bellisaria, Western Hills

Mountain Man 01 (giving someone a ring)

He paused at the first top to make an important phone call. “Tom? Hi, it’s me. Change of plans — I’m heading into Carumba again.”

Reply.

“Skirt?” he heard. “Yeah, I’m wearing my skirt I guess you could say.”

Reply.

“Oh. *Skirt.* Yeah, I’m just going along the edge of the sim basically. No worries there.”

Reply.

“Don’t be sucked into another anomaly, right. I understand.”

Reply.

“Okay, left — got it. Stick to the ridge.”

Reply.

“I have no food.”

And he has no stick, he realized after hanging up and continuing to walk toward higher parts of the range. He’ll soon solve one if not the other.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0107, Bellisaria, Western Hills