Tag Archives: WATERLOG

November 3, 2023 · 3:16 pm

00400603

“I cannot see at this time. The leaves are stuck together as if in an old waterlogged book found floating on the harbour. Poetically speaking,” she explains her description.

“Never mind (the whereabouts of) Ketchup Tom, then. How about this new guy, this Roy Coy. Doctor? Mister? Gaze into your scrying instruments and give me the info.”

Golden Goddess gives it another go. Tired of the cards and leaves, she pulls out the crystal ball, blue-green as Earth and an almost exact stand in. Getting closer.

“Utah Utah Utah,” she says while scanning and staring. “Aahh… *there*.”

00400415

Ketchup Tom knew this day would come. End of gig; time to go. But what is time here? It was as if he’d just arrived.

He stared at what he remembered was a sim-skipper outside the window in the harbour. “Should’ve come in on that instead of Marsha’s VW,” he muttered to himself. Marsha was in the shower. *No*: Marsha insisted on renting the place next door instead of staying in the same apartment with Ketchup. She certainly hadn’t given up on Eddie, her Edward, back in Big Sandy — which we’ll be returning to soon.

Ketchup Tom knew he was The Musician. He knew he could come in but, once here, couldn’t leave, unlike so many before him. Because he was different. He and the town were like two cut out pieces of paper stuck together. Like fused leaves of an old waterlogged book found floating in the harbour. “*No*,” he insisted just as vehemently back to Marsha in the rental place next door when he came to tell her. “You have your place and I have mine. Here.”

Yellow House, he knew. He wasn’t going anywhere. Marsha would have leave Gaston by herself.

color row

One day, after a particularly intense jamming session the night before, The Musician woke not beside Terri but *as* Terri. Although his name was now Earie. Some people called him Chuck. He lived in the Yellow House — been living there for a pretty good while.

Siblings Chroma and Improvio resided in the same row of houses, but remained in cocoon form, chained to a more basal music. He was the first to emerge.

He gives Improvio next door in the Blue House a ring, knowing he wouldn’t be up, hehe.

“Don’t answer it.”

Chroma (Red House) was usually down at the waterfront by now, studying symmetry in objects washed up on the beach. She jots down a lot.

Right this moment she happens to be scrutinizing an old waterlogged book found floating underneath a rickety pier.

M	T	W	T	F	S	S
1	2	3	4	5	6	7
8	9	10	11	12	13	14
15	16	17	18	19	20	21
22	23	24	25	26	27	28
29	30	31

Tag Archives: WATERLOG

00400603

00400415

color row

Meta

Archives

Categories