Anthology Complex VIII by M.B. Julien - HTML preview
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Brian II said to Leah, “I just don't know how.”
As Brian II's face shifted in direction, he caught sight of Fiona Walsh, the family's nurse of the last two years, and found her to be staring at his mother, Queen Brigid.
Fiona rose out of her seat and walked toward the dancing pharaoh who seemed to be getting more and more tired as the night went on and asked her if she took her medication for her recent psyche diagnosis. When the queen said no, Fiona took her by the arm and brought her into a private room where she made sure the queen took her medicine.
Two years ago, Fey was hired by the queen to take over nursing duties, but the queen soon turned her into a type of spy that would divulge any secrets to her should they seem important. Among the secrets were the facts that King Brian had fallen for a scam in 1947; Sabrina and Douglas had a sexless marriage which found the pair emotionally cheating on eachother; Dorothy, lacking anything that resembled a love life, had recently struck up a friendship with a male pen-pal and was telling all of the family secrets to him; Wayne's hair, despite his young age, was turning gray and he opted to color it to hide the fact; and Cassandra did in fact lose her virginity at a young age but lied to Jeremy and told him he was her first.
Despite all these secrets, Fiona failed to disclose her own secret to the queen, which 45 | HALOWEEN 1950
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was the affair she was having with her son. And though Brigid knew of this, she said nothing of the matter, as she was not at all satisfied with the character of Leah and knew that should she become queen some day, she would be terribly difficult to control.
Back in the presence of the rock and roll music being played sat now a lone Aubry who gazed at Brittany with intense scrutiny. Aubry felt that Brittany had taken everything important from her. She was once the star of the show, but she had been married for so long now that the lines on her face were beginning to show. And though Brittany was now the center of attention when it came to family matters being presented to the public, as she was now the one who addressed the media and did media events, Aubry knew that she must have been a liar, just as she herself was when she was the window into the family's soul.
Seated at one of the bars now and commenting on the current song being played were decent friends Wayne and Jeremy. They spoke about many things, including a new song that was released by a band they both admired. But this decent friendship, in a moment, was to be broken. Not by the two men, but by their wives.
“Why are you going around spreading rumors about me!?,” Cassandra shouted at Brittany. Aubry's eyes who were already on Brittany widened.
Brittany got up out of her seat and took defense at the situation. “What are you talking about?,” she asked Cassy. “I'm not stupid! I know you resent me because I had the bigger and better and more beautiful wedding!” “You did not!,” Brittany had never been more offended in her life, and this was when the yelling was so loud that even the band's music began to become more disorganized until it slowed to a crawl.
Everyone was now attentive of the quarrel, but no one interfered because this was a sighting three years in the making that everyone felt was coming soon.
There was a moment when both Wayne and Jeremy began walking to stop the argument, but in their tracks they were stopped by King Brian, who told them if they didn't settle their dispute now, then it would continue like a cancer in the family.
And so no one interfered. And when no one came to stop the two women, it escalated into violence. Cassy picked up an apple from the table and threw it at Brittany, the apple smacking her square in the forehead and making a thud sound. A shocked Brittany ran toward Cassy and tackled her to the ground as the crowd, even the band, watched on in semi-terror.
The entire fight was like two wild animals lacking any consciousness. It moved around all along the party hall, included various pseudo-weapons such as chairs and tables, and was filled with grunts and screams. At one moment, Brittany had a clump of blonde hair in one hand, and at another, Cassandra a clump of brunette hair in her own.
Deep scratches left behind bloodtrails. Both of their dresses torn though neither of them 46 | HALOWEEN 1950
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ever becoming totally indecent. And at the end of it all, as both lay practically dead on the tiled floor, they were both defeated. The cancer would not stop as the king suggested, it would only grow between the two and infect the future of the family.
People who have not a thing to contribute to the discourse will always affirm what you already believe to be true. If you agreed with them beforehand, you will agree with them even more afterwards. If you disagreed with them beforehand, you will disagree with them even more afterwards. People who truly add to the discourse will offer you a new insight or a new way of seeing something you thought you saw so well. But Halloween in 1950 for the Flanagans was a day where no one contributed anything but rumors, secrets, and feverishly bad opinions.
Princess Dorothy prepares an intimate letter detailing family secrets to Sebastian Conway. (1948)
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Chapter 66
SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
3:2:7:66
DAY #11
THE evening before, I had a dream. It was one of those dreams that you are not a part of but are given direct view of the events. The event I witnessed was that of the archangel Michael, in Hell, setting up a boulder to block an entrance. I believe prior to this, there were souls that ventured out to upper levels, eventually escaping Hell and returning to the world of the living as spirits. This made me wonder how sophisticated God was in his designs, if he was sophisticated at all.
A set of simple rules can create a complex system. The popular game GO has rules that are easy to understand, and yet there are 10^360 possible moves. There are 26 letters in the English alphabet but we have a book as big as the dictionary and a language as confusing as politics. And what can these two examples of thought tell us about God and creation? Well, we as human beings have this notion and misconception that the creator of a system is always more complex, or at least equally complex, as the system itself, but the system is never more complex than the creator. And as we study these systems that seem to have an ability to grow drastically in complexity based on its initial components, we find that to be the case less and less, which leads us to the idea of God and creation.
The question is simple, yet the implications complex; did God create a universe that became more complex than he himself?
There would be so much to discuss if this were true, but I will only engage in a few.
Foremost, this would excuse God as a God. He would no longer be regarded as omnipotent, and as such, would no longer be culpable for all the ills of the world. He very well may be unable to affect the universe, and may not even understand the universe if it is too complex and above his understanding. His inability to affect the universe or even reveal himself to us would make more sense if God is not even, in an intelligent sense, aware of the consequences of his "simple rules."
So many old questions become easily answered when one goes against the notion that God is above us in every measure. God may be no more than the equivalent of a 20-billion year old fly in space whose one minor movement was the catalyst of a grand design... And how can you blame a fly for not understanding our concepts of good and evil...
Once the boulder was put in place, no other souls ever found their way out to the upper levels of Hell. Soon after, the angel went to a higher level and began working on a bridge that would lead to a stone door.
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Inside our room at the inn there is a balcony with a small table and chairs. I guess technically, that's not inside. But Lynne and I and Kirby, who was sitting on her lap, were outside sitting on the balcony. Kirby was now able to hold his own head up and every once and while babbled something at Lynne.
Looking at the evening sky filled with clouds, I pointed behind Lynne and said “angel wings.” She turned around with Kirby and they both looked up at the orange sky.
“Not bad. I'll give you eight points,” she said. I continued to look around as I was currently losing, but she suddenly pointed to her right and said “microphone.” When I saw it, I agreed that it did really look like a microphone and awarded her nine points.
Looking around still, I saw behind me something that looked like a woman's one-piece bathing suit. Apparently she didn't think so as she only gave me three points for it.
A long while went by before either of us saw anything, and as the night grew darker the clouds looked less and less like things until they disappeared completely and revealed the stars in the night.
The fact that the area we were in now had very little light pollution allowed us to continue this sky game, but I know if we were back home it would have ended because there is so much light pollution in San Rashida.
“Cigarette,” she pointed toward the sky. I looked in the direction she pointed and I couldn't make out any stars that seemed to form something that looked like a cigarette.
She continued to guide me until I found a string of stars in a straight line. I looked at her.
“How is that a cigarette?,” I asked. She tried to explain, but it was not a satisfactory explanation, so I awarded her one point for her efforts.
We looked and looked into the dark sky trying to see things that weren't really there until finally I came across a constellation that looked like a heart. This sudden realization made me remember a dream I had a few nights ago, where I had set out on a journey through the wilderness to find Lynne's beauty. And I remembered that it connected to a dream I had years ago, where I had found it in the guise of purple light, and after putting the light in a container I traveled out of the wilderness and brought it to a safe place.
I almost didn't even want to point out the heart in the night sky. But I was only down a few points and if I didn't, she would eventually see it anyway and my reluctance would be futile. I didn't really want to point it out because I knew she would become excited about it and think it was some kind of sign or something divine.
One thing I know about Lynne is that if she buys herself something, like jewelry or flowers or something romantic, that's one thing, but if I buy her something, especially jewelry or flowers or anything romantic, she will want to be buried with it. I know that if she finds the heart, she will be ecstatic, but if I'm the one who finds it, it's something she will bring up for years to come.
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I pointed in the direction of the constellation and said “heart,” and when she looked that way she couldn't find it. I saw her eyes looking all over that direction and I kept giving her directions to find it but she couldn't. It was strange, because it was so obvious to me but she had trouble seeing it. Literally ten minutes must have gone by and still nothing, so I went inside the room to use the bathroom. When I came out, it almost looked like she gave up trying. When I looked where I knew it to be, I didn't see it any longer, but it couldn't have rotated out of the night sky so soon.
She continued looking, and about a minute later I knew she found it when the adrenaline coursed through her veins. She was so excited about it I know because of the analysis I just gave you; her romantic brain fooled itself into believing I had found it just for her and it was a sign from the heavens that our love for eachother was divine.
“You get eleven points!,” she said. I looked at the paper and realized that gaining eleven points would mean I would be winning by one. “The maximum is ten,” I told her.
“And I'm giving you eleven.” “Are you sure?” “Positive.” “Then I'm winning.” “Good for you,” she didn't care about losing.
I asked her where she saw it and she pointed, but in looking I couldn't find it. I looked for at least a minute before I gave up trying, and I wondered if she saw the same heart that I did.
DAY #12
Kirby fell asleep in her arms at midnight and she went to lay him to rest. After, the both of us also laid in bed to sleep. I guess I wasn't tired because I couldn't fall asleep.
After a moment I took hold of my cellular device and turned it on to see what time it was.
It was one a.m., and in looking at the screen, I saw an ant beginning to walk across it. I shook it off onto the floor but didn't kill it. Turning off the phone, I wondered where the ant would have gone had I decided to do it harm. I wondered if ants themselves wondered of afterlives. Probably, they don't, but you have to ponder; if an ant continually saw other ants disappear, would that cause questions to form in its mind? Questions that would meditate on death and the afterlife?
If there was an ant colony and we followed around an ant named Rustin, and Rustin was an extremely healthy ant who worked tasks for the colony that required one partner ant, and every couple days his partner ant would disappear and be replaced with a new partner ant, what reflections would Rustin begin to have?
For full disclosure, these partner ants are actually dying, not just disappearing, but Rustin does not know this because Rustin has no concept of death. When the first partner ant is replaced, Rustin may not think anything of it. When the second is replaced, perhaps 50 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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still nothing. But I would bet something would click in Rustin's mind about the constant replacement of his partners. Again, Rustin would not form a concept of death in his mind, and he would also not have a concept of life in his mind either; instead what if Rustin formed the concept of perspective in his mind?
He might think to himself, “All of my partner ants keep disappearing. But what if to them, I am the one who is disappearing?”
If I was the ant Rustin I would begin to monitor my environment to see if anything changes or if anything is replaced when one of my partner ants are replaced. If I saw changes or other things being replaced, that might tell me that I am the one who is actually moving and they may not be.
Lynne suddenly rolled over toward me and positioned her body partially onto mine and I could feel her stump against my calf. For a moment I lost track of my thoughts but began again.
While the ant perhaps would not form the concept of death, it may form the concept of perspective, and through its understanding of work and teamwork, it may begin to assume that maybe the disappearing ants have been given new tasks. And through this understanding, it might reason that “death” is being given a new or different task.
To put this in another perspective we could use another form of life. Say there was a deer, too named Rustin, who could feel fear and its family and friends were often attacked by wolves. Though often attacked, the deer Rustin has never actually seen a wolf kill one of its friends, it only knows that after the chase, one of its friends or family always seems to be missing. This deer, which understands a part of living is about survival, will begin to understand “death” in the context of survival the same way the ant understood “death” in the context of work and being given a new job. The deer, who sees that one of them is missing, may begin to associate death as some kind of failure. And in reasoning that death is failure, it may reason that being alive is success.
As human beings we can appreciate both of these viewpoints; we equate life to success because we assume humans have purpose, and to die and never realize that purpose would be failing. And even as humans, some of us believe that when we die we go elsewhere for a new purpose or a new task.
So that makes me wonder, what thoughts would a human being named Rustin have on death and the afterlife. While we don't know what an ant or a deer actually thinks about death, we do know what humans think about death, and can inversely understand humanity through understanding this.
If an ant understands its existence through hard work and sees death as a new task, and a deer understands its existence through survival and sees death as failure, I believe, based on the overwhelming evidence that human beings have moral-associated thoughts 51 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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on death and the afterlife, that a human understands its existence through morality and sees death as the day of their judgment of the way they lived their life.
In this matter there are always two sides and these two sides can give us an insight as to how humans further understand death and the afterlife. Anyone on Earth, when asked of death and the afterlife, will tend to have views that agree with theism or atheism.
Because we have created this worldview through a lens of morality, we have also created a group of minds who at their core believe that the universe is incapable of being morally subjective, and we have created a group of minds that believe that the universe is capable of being morally subjective. And because of these two groups, there is a third group; those who have seen evil people punished and good people rewarded, but have also seen evil people go unpunished and good people unrewarded, and so they are caught between theism and atheism.
I wonder. Far down the road when humanity is further evolved and there is little religion and spirituality, when perhaps morality is no more, through what lens will we choose to see death and the afterlife?
DAY #13
Near the end of the second week in this country, Lynne signed us all up to ride horses in the countryside but at the final moment Dave and Sara pulled out, citing they believed they were in the beginning of contracting a cold. Lynne and I were both suspicious but simply went on without them as they watched over Mordecai.
When we got to the farm we were directed to the horses and the instructor. We signed some papers and then were asked if we were riding solo or together. Lynne asked the instructor if it was safe to ride together and said that it wouldn't be a problem as long as we had one of their more experienced horses.
The instructor went over some basic information and then showed us the way to the horses and then to our horse, who was named Heartbreaker. “Why's that their name?,”
Lynne asked. “Couples who ride this horse always break up exactly one year after,” the instructor said with a smile. We've known this guy for half of an hour and he's already making jokes.
After I got on the front-saddle, Lynne got onto the back-saddle and we rode out onto the trail following the instructor. I feel sorry for these horses, they have to ferry dumbass humans for entertainment's sake.
Five minutes into the ride Lynne moved closer to me and hugged my body, wrapping her arms around me. Her style is new, but the personality is the same.
In the sky above and before us there is one big dot. When the day begins it tends to be 52 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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yellow, and when the day ends it tends to be white. But at the time now in the evening it is orange. Often white smoke passes through it and causes shadows on the land beneath us. Giant plants that stand one hundred feet tall turn from green and brown to darker shades of green and brown. Where we come from, in the beginning of the year the flags do not exist. Then suddenly they return and retain that green. Like the dot above them they too change colors; green then red then yellow then brown, and like the dot above them these colors are dictated by the times. Below us are the blades that make the fields.
And I'm sure somewhere near there is a cup of water that houses life.
After the horse ride, Lynne and I got off Heartbreaker and then made our way out of the farm. A break up is difficult because human beings subconsciously project their future on various levels. Imagine getting married, and your projection is that you will know this person for the rest of your life. And then suddenly it changes and your projection was wrong. What is most jarring about the whole situation is not necessarily the break-up itself, but the act of subconsciously creating a new projection in an instant.
What is so painful is the process of creating that projection subconsciously and knowing that person is not in your new projection. The uncertainty and the silhouette of the new projection is so infantile and mysterious compared to the old projection that was at least in its adolescence and had a more definite form. And depending on the amount of difference in the old projection and the new projection surely is the weight of that distress.
This reminds me of a dream I have written down. It was what some might call a visitation dream. In the dream I was a detective for a small city. I was assigned a murder.
And then I was assigned another murder that appeared to have the same M.O. When it happened one more time, we understood we had a serial killer on our hands. The method of killing was similar to reports I had been reading about that occurred in a major city.
Using the information that January Levinson and Jeremy Watson had provided, I found myself searching for two suspects.
Further information lead me to believe that these two individuals were attendees of a particular mosque, but when I found the mosque I also found that it was abandoned and hadn't been used in months due to arson.
Still, I walked inside to see the mess. As I went to leave, that was when I heard the voice of the dead. January, who I knew to be deceased but official reports said was only missing, gave me some clarity. She told me that my two suspects were innocent of the murders and that it was no longer two men and that Sid had been murdered by his accomplice. Because she was killed shortly prior to Sid, she was unable to update the details.
When I left the mosque I was not happy. I had spent countless days and nights 53 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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building a profile on the two men only to find they were innocent, and now I had to start again from the beginning.
DAY #14
David and Sara were indeed sick. For the entire day they quarantined within their room as to not pass on what they had to the three of us, especially Kirby. In the evening lunch was brought to our room but Lynne and Kirby don't eat until she is done giving him a bath. Already today Kirby has vomited on Lynne and has defecated something liquidy on the floor which, because I was already feeling sorry for her, I cleaned up. We don't think he has the same cold the kids have, this is just what he does.
Eating what they gave me, I separated the foods into groups, which is something I always do with my plate of food. And as I ate, I looked around the room and noticed how there too, things were grouped. All of the clothes were in a closet. All of the garbage in a garbage can. Downstairs all of the food must have been in one kitchen, and outside all of the trees must have been in one wood. I looked out the window near the balcony and thought, all of the clouds must have been in one sky.
One of the concept dreams I've had deals with groups. Somehow I am able to travel back in time, and when I go back in time I go with the knowledge of the outcomes of hundreds of bets. I go back to a day where I am able to win the most money and I place a large sum of money on the winner. I win one of the biggest jackpots in the history of the country, and my greed causes me to wait for later days where I too know the outcomes of later bets. But I find that for many of the bets of the later days, the outcomes have changed and are not what I knew them to be. This makes me wonder if my going back in time to alter the data about one bet, that is the earnings it gave out, could affect all of the future bets I thought I could have won.
Did you know that it is possible to have four unique solutions in a beaker that don't mix? They will stay separate from each other, mixing only with their own type or group, creating layers you can see with the naked eye.
If there is precedence for this type of grouping, and I can see the same type of organization in this room and in the inn itself and even in nature outside, it makes me wonder if the universe also groups events.
I changed some of the information about a bet, and this seemed to affect many of the other bets after it, so much so that I could not earn another penny. And though the bets changed outcomes, not much of that universe's story changed much. Things outside of the bets remained largely the same. Yes, I know it's a dream and it's not based on the reality of physics, but it's given me pause and made me think of something.
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What if events and their outcomes have a selective impact? If you go back in time and murder a person or cause a person to be born, of course this will impact many other things, but what if it specifically impacts who can be born and who will die? If you change whether someone got sick or not, would it mostly impact future sicknesses and not so much anything else? If you stopped a book from being written, would it impact only what books are written in the future? And last, but not least, if you changed the outcome of a soccer match, will it only affect other soccer matches or will it affect all sports?
At the same time I was done eating Lynne and Kirby came out of the bathroom. As they came toward me they saw that I was watching a documentary that detailed a group of wars that were a direct result of the Vietnam war.
She sat down at the table and also placed Kirby in his seat, where after they began to eat. After a while and after gaining Kirby's attention, she pointed at me. “Can you say papa?,” she said to Kirby. He just stared at her and didn't say a word. “Look,” she pointed at me again, and then asked the question again but received no answer. Then she pointed at herself, “Maamaa,” she said again and again but Kirby never said it.
I know that she's not delusional and I know that she doesn't actually think that she is Kirby's mother, but honestly, I don't know sometimes.
“I don't know if it's a good idea to be doing that,” I told her. She looked at me briefly and then went back to Kirby. “You're not his mom, Lynne.” Didn't bother to look at me or say anything.
I got up after and began walking toward the bed. “Where are you going?,” she finally said something. “Papa's going to sleep.”
Telling people you love them while you're both alive. That's a good thing. But I think it's always better to show them. Then you don't have to say it constantly. And if you die abruptly, it's not an issue because they knew; and if they die abruptly, it's not an issue because you know they knew.
DAY #15
The kids were finally better and in the afternoon we went a block over to the local pool. There were a bunch of people there of all ages and even some of the patrons from our Inn were there. In particular, the girl who sat across David at the dinner was there and the two of them were part of the group of kids who were playing pool games, and I could tell Dave and the girl were becoming friendly.
Sara too was part of the group of kids playing the pool games, but there was no indication to me that she liked any of the boys.
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At the other end of the pool where there were less young people was Lynne and Kirby. Kirby was sitting on some kind of balloon animal wearing a flotation device and Lynne was wearing a checkered swimdress. Directly in front of them but out of the pool and on a couple pool chairs sat a decidedly younger woman and a definitely older man.
They too were staying at the inn but I never saw them much. I saw Lynne glance at the pair a few times, and I wondered what she thought of the large age gap of the pair.
There is no age gap between Lynne and I, so anyone looking at us wouldn't look too long, but I suppose the man on the pool chair might look at me and wonder, if it wasn't because I chose her in my younger age, why would I have chosen her in my older age?
It's no secret that a relationship with the female variety presents its challenges.
Whether the female is younger or older, there will be trials. And while the trials with a younger woman has its own challenges, there is nothing like the challenge of the older woman.
The man on the pool chair, I have no opinion or judgment of him. Whenever I play video games with David, I choose the normal difficulty, and if it's not the normal difficulty I choose then it's the easy difficulty. So the man with the younger woman who he can probably easily manipulate and easily charm, I have nothing against him.
That being said, I feel that conquering the challenges of a more difficult woman, at least in my experiences with Lynne, is more rewarding. If you can conquer a difficult woman, she will give you more, and in conquering her challenges you would yourself set challenges for her to meet and conquer as well.
Lynne has and can be difficult, but I know that deep down inside, she is a woman who actually wants to be conquered. And if women are like her in general, they want to follow and be lead. The greatest return of conquering a difficult older woman is not just the woman herself, but the lieutenant she will be for you in your life. With her experience, which of course came to be because of her challenging nature, you won't feel like you have to carry the weight of the whole damn world on your shoulders.
A minute ago all of the kids were done playing and exited the pool. Sara and Dave took Kirby at Lynne's request back to the inn, and currently Lynne had her hands on the ground and was lifting herself out of the pool while looking at me.
She walked up to me in the wet swimdress never giving up eye contact. “Wassup LT
you ready to go home?,” I asked her. She was confused, “Wouldn't it be 'LS' or 'LH'?,”
she asked. Nevertheless she sat down on the same pool chair I was sitting on and said,
“Nah, I'm finna wait till everyone leaves so you will come into the pool with me.”
And so when the night had completely fallen and there were no more people around us save the Moon and her clouds and stars, Lynne got up so I would plunge into the pool with her. Seeing her in the swimdress, really I only wanted to plunge into her.
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The water was colder than I thought it'd be but I warmed up to it quickly. “When do you think the pool closes?” “When someone kicks us out.”
We were at first in the shallow end, so shallow that even Lynne's feet could touch the bottom while keeping her head above water, but soon she swam away to the deep end where I followed her. She swims to a wall and puts her hand on the ledge and puts one of her legs, still underwater, in a position to push herself deeply into the waters. She also starts to make little movements, as if she is going to push herself, then doesn't push herself, then fakes a push again. I tried to pull myself through the water quickly at her but by the time I got to where she was, she had expelled herself into the middle of the deep end.
When I swim toward her, she swims away. There were several times when I missed her by mere inches, but as long as I was fighting her above water, I wouldn't be able to catch her.
I looked at her one final time, then slowly sunk underwater. Since it was so dark out and there was little light in and out of the pool, it would be more difficult for her to see where I was in the dark and deep waters.
Underwater, I could see her legs turning around in many angles, and after a moment she started to paddle to different places. Like some kind of wild animal, I could smell the fear in her heart and in her mind.
When I was younger I used to have these recurring dreams, or maybe I should say nightmares, that used to trouble me. I'm at a funeral for someone, and knowing that I am sitting in the front row, I assume it must have been for an immediate family member. The thing that terrified me wasn't the concept of death or the dead body before me, but was something that was in being alive and in the living. I had always feared funerals because I was a person who was incapable of displaying feeling or emotion even if I felt them, and so I believed at one funeral or another I would be called out by the others in the funeral for being an animal or inhuman.
This is a worry that as far as I can tell has left me. If someone thinks I am inhuman, or cold, or detached, then so be it. The only opinion that matters to me is Lynne's, and I have found in a great irony that this is a quality that Lynne prefers in me because she is the complete opposite. It's one of those challenges I spoke of earlier; being such an emotional person, when she is overwhelmed she has me to bother.
When she could no longer take the tension she began swimming for the ladder to escape the pool entirely. Because she is a cripple, I didn't want to attempt grabbing her and then have her fall and crack her head on the hard ground below, so I lunged out of the pool beside her and the ladder and pulled myself out of the pool. I heard her scream, perhaps even of real terror, and chased her as she tried to run away. I finally caught her 57 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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and grabbed her from behind, picking her up and bringing her back toward the pool.
Kicking but not screaming, she accidentally kicked off her prosthetic, and as I plunged back into the pool with her I caught sight of the prosthetic foot on the ground. Anyone passing by would have thought that there was an actual shark attack.
She tried to free herself from me but she couldn't. When she gave up she finally turned around and looked at me, claiming that she had actually let me catch her.
Our arms around us we found eachother in the shallow end again. The waters moved us back and forth very slowly and there were sounds of the ocean in our ears. Waters like these are the type you could fall asleep in if you're not careful.
After a moment I found her looking into me, and she leaned forward and gently kissed me. When she was done she looked at her mangled foot on the ground above us, and then told me something I had already known. “I take my dog mad and my wolf lone.”
DAY #16
I got out of the vehicle before Lynne and ran around the car to her side. After I opened the door for her, she walked out and looked over the gigantic mall before her. I waved off the driver and he was gone.
I walked quickly ahead of her and reached the mall door first, where after I held it open for her she walked through it in the Fahrenheit of ninety-nine degrees. When she reached the next door, the one that would actually lead into the mall, she waited in front of it, looking at her nails and saying “I need to get my nails done first.”
I opened the second door for her and we found the beauty parlor on the second floor after I asked for directions. I went inside and sat in a waiting area and watched her as a woman began preparations for serving her her manicure.
After much time, her nails were done and she called me over to look at them. I saw that on her now 2.5 centimeter-long fingernails the woman had designed little icons of clouds and stars.
“Look! It's like that game we played Spookie! Remember? When you saw the heart in the sky and then I saw it too! It was like the stars aligned just for us! They're my favorite nails ever! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
I went back to sit in the waiting area as she got half-off on a pedicure, the woman's gift. I saw that from her purse she took out her flowerbook and handed it to the woman.
After her feet were serviced, she called me over to look at them, and I saw that she had some of the flower designs she had created were now on her toenails.
“See? She painted some of my drawings on my big toes! Both toes have a different flower I made! I like this one the best! And I like that one second-best! Wait, no! I 58 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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change my mind, I like this one the best! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
The final service to be done in the beauty parlor was the service of her hair. I went back and waited, and when she was done, she called me over to see. I saw that she had styled it and she looked a bit different. Holding up the mirror, she said many things.
“Wow! I love it! It makes me look and feel so feminine! Not that I didn't look and feel feminine before, but it's like a whole new me! It's so wonderful! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, very pretty.”
Finally we left the beauty parlor and stood at its entrance. “Now I need to shop for some new clothes.”
We saw that there was a clothing store right next door and we entered into it. I follow Lynne around as she browses the various articles of clothing. Finally she chose one and then went into a fitting area where she could try it on, and I waited again for her in a waiting area near it. When she came out, she looked like an innocent but dangerous escort.
“Spookie! What do you think? I think it looks wonderful! It looks sweet and innocent but it also makes me look like I have a wild dark side! Like you can't tell if I want marriage or if I'm promiscuous! I feel so cool! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
She gave me the clothes after taking it off and I went to the front counter to purchase it, and I carrying her purchase bag, we exited the clothing store and entered another.
She browsed around the store as I followed and watched, and soon she chose some clothes and went into a fitting area.
When she came out it was in a swimsuit that was a one-piece and she looked like a beach babe ready again for the waters.
“I found a new swimsuit! I can wear it when we go to the beach next week! Oh I can't wait! It's going to be so much fun and it fits me so well! I already feel like a mermaid! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
I now had two shopping bags and it wasn't long until I followed her into the next store. There she browsed again until she found something she might buy.
When she exited the fitting area, she came out in clothes that made her look like a mother who played 1950s rock and roll while she cleaned the house.
“Oh my God! Look at me! Don't I look like a cool mom! I love these vibes! I feel so old-school but at the same time I feel like this look is totally in! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
When we left that store I now had three shopping bags to carry into the next one. And this time, when she came out of the fitting area, she looked like a princess from a 59 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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conservative royal family.
“This. Is. So. Fabulous! I have been looking for something like this for years! It just brings out my elegance! My little heart is so happy right now! I can't wait to wear this on one of our nights out my love! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
I was carrying four shopping bags when we entered the next store, and I wondered what she was going to try out next. When she came out, she literally looked like a teenage girl.
“I know this exposes my belly button, but I feel so girly! I feel so young and ditzy!
Anything could happen! I have my whole life ahead of me and nothing's going to slow me down! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
With five bags in my hands, the next one would probably be hanging off my arm. We walked into another store and soon she came out in something that looked gothic.
“We have all been sentenced to death from the moment we are born. It is a sentence so callous as to defy the existence of a loving God, but alas we must fight through the darkness to reach the light. I wear this in symbolization of this great battle. Do you think it's pretty?” “Yes, Lashes, I think.”
With six bags I indeed began carrying some of them on my arms as we entered the next store, where soon she came out of the fitting room and looked like a girly bimbo all in pink.
“Darkness out, barbie in! I feel so stylish! I feel like a celebrity! I love pink so much and I could wear it all day and every day! Oh my God I want to be buried in this! Who do I have to talk to to make that happen? The government? So, so pretty! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, so pretty.”
Seven bags now, and between the beauty parlor and all these stores she was costing me a pretty penny, but nevertheless we walked into the next store. This time, she came out looking like a disco queen.
“Check out these moves! If we were back in the seventies I would own the dance floor with my moves and this super cute look! What an era! Watch out world, here comes the disco queen! Do you think it's pretty???” “Yes, Lashes, of course.”
Adding the eighth bag to my arm took a lot of work, but I followed her into the next store, where after she was done dressing, she called me into the fitting room and she whispered in my ear while looking like a prostitute on the street corner.
“Hey boy... I love this one... It makes me feel sexy. So sexy. I don't have much to say about this one because I think it speaks for itself, doesn't it? I think it tells you exactly how I like it, exactly how I want it. Oh, boy, what I want you to do to me. Do you think it's sexy?” “Yes, Lashes, very sexy.”
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out and looked like a professional woman moving up the ladder.
“Mr. Julien, did you finish the report for our Tokyo account? No? Well, I guess that means you're going to be working hard late with me tonight, huh? Don't worry, once you're done working come on over to my office and we can play... Do you think I look bossy?” “Yes, Lashes, maybe too bossy.”
Ten bags decorated my arms and I could barely carry them all, but nevertheless I did.
She was finally done shopping and I followed her toward the exit of the mall carrying all of her bags. When she got to the exit door, she stood there, waiting for me to open it for her. “I'm waiting,” she said impatiently. “Do you think you can open it? I'm carrying so many bags,” I told her. She looked at me angrily, and then looked down at the door handle. She went to grab the door handle and as soon as she made contact with it, one of her fingernails broke off.
“See!,” she said even angrier than before, “Look what happened! You made me break one of my new nails!,” she cried.
“Lashes I'm so sorry” I said quickly, and without thinking, I used my teeth to open the door for her. Every thing ended up being okay and she wasn't as mad at me as she was before, it's just that I will need to visit a dentist as soon as possible.
DAY #17
The seventeenth day of the vacation was a Friday and was also Father's Day. We were again invited to dine with the rest of the residents in the inn since the last dinner was canceled due to unforeseen circumstances. But David's genius showed us a way out of it.
I told Dobbie that the kids were still sick and that Lynne was also coming down with something, and so with that we were free to enjoy our Friday in peace.
I left Lynne and Kirby to go see what Dave and Sara were doing. Sara was nearly finished with her book and Dave was asleep and out cold. Before I left Sara to her devices, she stopped me and asked me a strange question. “What does 'cunt' mean?” “Is it in that book you're reading?,” I laughed curiously. “No... Me and mom were downstairs the other day and a man said that to her.” “He called her a cunt?” “Yeah, a stupid cunt.
What does it mean? I think I already know because I looked it up, but I wanted to know what you know.” “When did this happen?” She thought for a moment, “It was the day you guys went to ride the horses.” “Who said it to her?” “It was that guy who was at the pool the other day, the one with the mustache.” It was the older man who was with the younger woman. “But what does it mean, dad?” “What you read is what it means,” and abruptly I left the room and went directly to Lynne.
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“What?” “Why didn't you tell me someone called you a cunt?” “...Because if I told you, you would either overreact or not react at all, so I didn't see the point.” “What happened after?” “Nothing, I just ignored him and we left to come back upstairs.” “Did he upset you?” “...Not really.” “Why did he even call you that?” “I spilled a drink and some of it got on his shoes.” “So basically you didn't do anything.” “I spilled a drink and some of it got on his shoes, that's why he got mad.” “...You're sure you're not upset about it? If you want me to say something, I will, but if it didn't bother you, then there's no point in pushing it.” “I am totally fine, I swear.” “...I see what you're doing. You're saving it for when someone really upsets you so you can send me after them.” “What gave it away?”
I stared at her for a few seconds, and after another few seconds she looked away and went back to her laptop. I closed the laptop and looked at her again, “I'm not your attack dog.” She looked up at me. I continued, “...Or you know what, maybe I am. Have you ever seen a dog attack its owner? Is that common?” I moved quickly toward her and dug my face into her chest while using my arm to push her toward me. She was laughing and making sounds of frustration as she tried to escape. When she finally broke free she ran toward the bed and hopped onto it and landed on it, bounced up a little bit, and then landed securely on all fours. Turned around as if she was a dog herself and followed me with her eyes.
When I got onto the bed, slowly, I too was on all fours. And at some point I leapt at her and we began pawing and wrestling with each other. The dog fight didn't last long as I soon overpowered her and layed onto her body. I laid comfortably with the side of my face on her chest and her arm around me, petting the back of my neck with her hand. “If we're going to do this every time, then I'm going to spill more things and get called a cunt more often,” she laughed.
“If he would have called you ugly or handicapped or physically retarded or something and you got upset, I would definitely have words with him whether you wanted me to or not, but ultimately, I would be more upset with you than him because I've made it abundantly clear that you are the most prettiest woman to ever live and I'd feel like every time I make that effort its in vain.” She started laughing and told me that she had stopped looking for any form of validation from other people, dealing with prettiness or otherwise, after I gave her the wedding band four years ago.
“You're a guy so maybe you don't completely grasp the idea, but that day my whole world changed. I know you're particular, and I don't mean that in an offensive way, but I know that you're picky so I don't take the fact that you chose me for granted. I feel like when other women get married, it's the man's privilege to offer it to her, but you didn't offer me anything, you just gave it to me. And I have to tell you, I was trying my damn hardest and I earned that motherfucker. I don't give a damn that you got it for ten dollars 62 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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at a yard sale, it makes me feel special and I will never take it off,” from the sound of her voice I could tell she was getting emotional and teary-eyed from what she was saying. I patted her hips, and suddenly she remembered that they had all signed a Father's Day card for me. She began moving to go get it but I didn't allow her to move and stayed on top of her. “It's all right, I'll look at it later,” I told her.
Whereby I fell asleep on her chest, I began to dream. Perhaps it was my mood of being relaxed in the early afternoon, but I dreamed one of the picnic dreams. Lynne and I are in a car and I am driving through woods. When I exit the woods, we see a gigantic screen in a parking lot.
There are other cars there and soon we both realize it's one of those old drive-in theaters. I park the car in a good location so we can see the screen and we begin to watch the film.
At some point the during the movie, I became startlingly aware, though not lucid, because I saw a location that I had seen before in the real world. It was that storage shed that Lynne and I were handcuffed in, and underneath one of the wooden tables there was a note. Apparently, the note had a genetic sequence on it that was related to a specific kind of bird.
And then I woke up. I saw that I was still on top of Lynne and she was sound asleep. I got off gently and saw that it was twelve minutes past midnight. Naturally I was curious, so I left the room, went downstairs, and made my way to the shed. When I got inside, I saw the exact table I saw in the dream. I walk up to it, reach underneath, and feel for a note. Shockingly, there was a piece of paper underneath it, and my mind wondered if I had subconsciously seen it back when we were sitting and waiting for the tool to charge.
Ripping the piece of paper off, I began to look at it, but in that very moment the shed door opened. The figure I saw moved like a dark ghost, and it screamed toward me and this definitely woke me up.
When I woke up again, I saw that it was still day and that I was again on top of Lynne and she was again sound asleep. Doing the same thing I did in the fake dream, I went stealthily to the shed, and when I found no paper underneath the table, I was sure I was actually awake.
Entering the inn, I coincidentally saw the man who called Lynne a stupid cunt. A part of me wanted to walk up to him and throw some tea or coffee at his shoes just to see what he would say to me. Of course, I didn't. But one day he's going to say that to a woman, and if she is somewhat married and introverted like Lynne, her husband's probably going to be a lot less diplomatic about it than I am.
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DAY #18
There was a fair in town and the kids decided to join us in going. Dave took his camera and made sure to take a good amount of pictures of all the attractions and events.
Coming back from the restroom, I saw Sara and Kirby on a ride together as Lynne watched them from the barrier.
“Wassup shortie, who you wit?” She looked me up and down, then said “No one.” I moved to the other side of her. “You ain't got no man; no boyfriend no husband nothing like th” she cut me off “How much money you make?” “Enough.” “You live witcho mama?” “No. I mean, kind of.” “Whatchu mean kind of?” “We live in the same building, different apartments.” “...You take care of her?” “Yeah girl you know I do. I'd do anything for my moms.” “...Where yo ride at?” “Right there,” I pointed in a random direction so she looked in a random direction. “...Kinda nice.” “You tryna go? I'll take you somewhere to eat, then we can go to my crib and you can see my sheets. They got flowers on 'em, you'll like them.” “What kinda flowers?” “Roses.” “What color roses?”
“Purple.”
She began laughing hysterically and I knew she got the joke. “You're so dorky,” she said. I looked at her and didn't say anything. “What?” “You forgot smelly, lazy, boring, quiet and a bunch of other things.”
When Sara got to us she told her mother that there was a high likelihood that Kirby had soiled his diapers. She was right, and after Lynne asked me to go find David, her and Sara went with Kirby to the restrooms.
I found Dave a bit away from the fair and sitting on a bench-table near a field; he was going through the camera and deleting pictures he didn't like and saving pictures he did.
After a few pictures I noticed a lighter on the table. I grabbed it and saw there was still lighter fluid in it, and then joked with him, asking him if he smokes. He laughed and gave me a resounding “No.”
He kept going through the pictures and I asked him another question. “You've never smoked grass?” He looked up at me confused, “You mean, like weed?” “No,” I said pointing down at the field, “I mean actual grass.” He started laughing and his no became even more resounding. “Me either.”
I grabbed a few grass blades and then one of the fliers about the fair on the wall behind us and I rolled something up with the grass inside. I lit one end of it and took one puff, blowing out the smoke. I handed it to David and he did the same, blowing out the smoke. He handed it back to me but I didn't take another puff.
I told him that I knew he probably didn't see me as a real father figure, maybe not even as a real adult because of the strange way about me that he probably didn't observe 64 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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in other adults, namely men, but I told him not to do drugs, and that I was serious.
“I'm asking for your mother,” I said. “She told you to tell me that?” “No, I'm just asking for her, because it would break her heart.”
He took a small while to reply, still going over photos, but after he replied, telling me that he respected me, went on a tangent saying he doesn't even remember what Silvio looked like and that if he died, he wouldn't feel anything for him. Then he told me that he didn't want to seem like a bad kid or anything, or make it seem like he and I are at odds, but he told me to not tell him what to do.
“I'm not saying that because I don't see you as my dad, I do, I just don't want anyone to tell me what to do. And I don't plan on doing drugs anyway.”
When I saw Lynne walking toward us with Sara and Kirby, I quickly dropped the joint and stepped on it. “What are you guys doing?,” Lynne asked. “We were just about to go find you guys,” I replied.
The final ride we went on allowed us all to go on it together. The man conducting the ride gave us each a souvenir, which was a face card of royalty as this fair was sponsored by the monarchy. A queen card for Lynne, a prince card for David, a king card for me, a princess card for Sarah, and because it was all that was left, a joker card for Mordecai.
DAY #19
It was mid-day when I was downstairs and I ran into Jefford. I didn't even know him and his wife were still here because I had not seen them for many days. He started complaining to me about another married couple that canceled on their plans to go to a concert tonight. I just fucking knew he was breaking his way into asking if Lynne and I would like to accompany them.
I wasn't really paying attention to anything he was saying, because my mind was focusing on how I would answer his eventual invitation. I tried to think of an excuse like how David could, but then I imagined Lynne's excited face when she found out she would have a reason to wear some of the clothes she bought at the mall. My reasoning was she had already dragged me halfway across the world, I don't see how a few more miles and one night of loud music could make it any worse.
When Jefford finally asked, I accepted it and he was glad. He told me when Lynne and I should be downstairs, and I went upstairs to tell Lynne about it.
When I got up there Lynne was feeding Kirby his baby food. Six hours later Kirby was asleep and I brought him to the kids room and let them know that Lynne and I were going to be gone for a couple of hours.
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socks, brown pants and a black shirt, Lynne matched me, which was a pair of black suede ankle-boot heels, sheer black leggings, a small red dress and a black jacket. I'm sure that she felt particularly lush this night because of her coordinate red lipstick and red rose ring.
As we walked out of our room, I asked her if I could put her make-up on her the next time. “Fuck no,” she resented the offer. As she walked ahead of me toward the stairs, I watched her and told her that I wasn't going to be fighting any men who tried to talk to her there.
When we got downstairs it was completely empty, so we found a table and sat at it and waited for Jefford and Dorene. “Didn't they tell you they were downstairs?” “Yeah.”
After a minute Lynne remarked that she had never been on a double-date before. “Are you excited?,” I asked her. She knew me and knew I was being sarcastic, so she looked dead into me and expressed those thick and darkly pronounced eyelashes. “Are you excited,” she said in a stupid voice, “shut up,” she finished in her normal voice.
One complete minute of silence went by. It wasn't unusual for me to not have my cell phone out but it was somewhat unusual, at a moment like this, for her to not have hers out. We stared at eachother, not the kind of staring that is more like leering but just casual looking at another person. Conscious staring. And then I moved my chair closer to her, leaned over and smelled the side of her neck. It was the perfume she had bought a few days ago at the mall.
I brought my head back and looked at her again. It doesn't matter if you're the most physically attractive person in the world, romance requires something novel, because looks can fade even without age. Obsessions grow faint and stories end. I wonder how she has stayed my queen of romance for this long.
When Jefford and Dorene finally came downstairs, they said they were sorry to keep us waiting and that they had an emergency back in their home country.
We left and took a car to the concert. During the drive Dorene noticed that Lynne had a wedding band but that I did not. “Are you one of those married couples where only the wife wears her ring?,” she asked us. “We're not married,” Lynne replied. “What are you then?,” Dorene asked a second question. Jefford nudged his wife, “You don't have to answer that.” I responded, “I'm too immature and afraid of commitment.”
Lynne laughed, saying “Translation. He's too mature and thinks every other woman is too immature for him, but he's too polite so he lowers himself.” We all looked at Lynne, and eventually Jefford nicknamed her the “doctor.”
Later, but still during the ride, Dorene asked us if we liked the handcuffs they gave us. “That was you?,” Lynne asked curiously. They both nodded. “Let's just say they are our souvenirs to remind us of our time here,” Lynne replied. Dorene let out an atrociously 66 | SEASON 8: EPISODE 3
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loud laughter and was glad she could be a part of it.
“Jeff and I have done everything under the moon to keep our romance alive, but we're both open about it and can admit that it's dying. What do you guys do to keep the passion?,” Dorene asked.
Lynne and I looked at eachother, and then eventually she began speaking. “He writes me amazing poetry and that more than helps.” “Poetry?,” Jeff almost seemed to say disgustingly. I was amazed that she told them that, and I could see that Dorene was confused but it peaked her interest. But it got silent as we reached our destination.
The concert was a romantic one, and I could simultaneously see why their friends canceled on them and why they themselves wanted to attend such an event. The music played was slow and every one in the crowd slow-danced with their partner. I was still amazed that Lynne told them that I wrote her poetry, but I didn't allow that to ruin the night or the mood. I was on my best behavior as I held her close to my body. I patted her behind softly and told her she was my pretty little princess, and that as long as we were in this country, she could have anything she wanted. But I too understand that Lynne possesses the unique distinction of being the only person who has ever made me feel every goddamn feeling from complete bliss to total wrath.
DAY #20
At midnight we rode home with Jefford and Dorene. The conversation on the way back was not nearly as interesting as the one on the way to. We gave them our farewells as they continued up onto the third floor. We went to check on the kids; Sara and Kirby were asleep and Dave must have been playing video games with his friends in America.
Lynne and I went back to our room and we undressed into normal clothes. I didn't need the bathroom for that but she did, singing some of the lyrics she heard at the concert, and when she came back out I was sitting at the table staring into nothing. She was wearing her panties and her bra, and as she went around the bed so I would see her backside, she made little jumps while her feet never left the ground so I would see her butt bounce. When she looked back at me to make sure I saw, she found me looking directly at her. I couldn't tell yet if she realized that I was upset.
When she walked over to me, she put one leg over me so that she could sit on my lap facing me. Again she made little jumps while her feet never left the ground, this time so I could see her boobs bounce. When she realized that I was upset, she asked me if I was mad about the immature remark she made earlier on the way to the concert. Honestly, I had forgotten about that.
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like that, because then I don't have to ever explain myself to you. I'm mad you told them that I write you poetry.” “...But it was a compliment,” she pleaded. “Thank you but it is emasculating.” “Why? Because of the way Jeff responded? That's exactly why they need handcuffs,” she finished. “Whatever stupid fucking gay ass shit I say to you or give to you, it needs to stay between us. I tell you those things in confidence and no one else needs to know about it.” “I'm sorry, I won't mention it again,” she said looking almost ashamed or embarrassed.
I don't think she realized it, but a very small tear was trying to force its way out of her eye. I couldn't tell if she was trying to not cry, or if she was so surprised by what I was saying it was just an automatic instinctual response.
I brought her closer to me so I could hug her body, “It's okay, I know you were just trying to compliment me.” She wrapped her arms around my neck and put the side of her face to mine. I kiss her cheek and tell her that “tomorrow I'm going to take my pretty little princess to the town garden and she can have any flower she wants.”
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Chapter 67
TORNADO ROYAL
3:2:7:67
Princess Brittany addresses the kingdom on race relations, an event that helped popularize the television medium. (1953)
ON the morning of Christmas Day, 1960, Sabrina stood in front of her late husband's gravesite. Though she and Douglas had never technically divorced, at the time of his death and many years prior, they were emotionally divorced. This technicality allowed Douglas an eternal resting place on the Flanagan's estate, and though today was recorded as the coldest day in recent history, Sabrina still found the audacity to walk to his gravesite, spit on it, and call him a coward for hanging himself.
Inside the Flanagan estate, in her highly decorated royal bedroom, was Princess Dorothy who had no intention in taking part of the jubilee this day. Within the past decade she was discovered by some of the family members to have had written communication with a journalist and was divulging secrets to him, secrets which were now out in the open and public knowledge.
Among the speculation of what she may have told the journalist were these; Jeff's affair with Karen Gray, the wife of Gary Gray who ran the largest mega-church in history; Queen Brigid's mental state, which from a diagnosis many years ago bordered on psychosis; Leah's six toes; Brian II's affair with the estate's nurse, Fiona; and last but not least, the existence of Orlando, who was Prince Ken and Maid Donna's secret lovechild.
All of this and possibly more was speculated by the family to have made its way to the public through the mouth of Dorothy, and since this discovery, she has become recluse and has made little way of contact to anyone.
King Brian stood at the large window pane in his office as he gazed out at a wintry snow scene. He had been going back and forth in his mind on whether to integrate his military into the conflict currently ongoing in Vietnam. At first he decided not to, but a sudden impulse caused him to return to his desk and sign the orders to join the war effort.
After signing the papers, he looked at his grandson, Trevor, who was playing with a toy gun. He took his cane, as in his older age he was having difficulty walking, and walked over to his grandson as his mind ruminated on the concept of power.
By this time in his life, he had entered his kingdom into two different wars, and though he had never once fired a single weapon, it gave him a great conceit to know that he was more powerful than any man who had.
When Trevor grew tired of guns and his grandfather's office, he traveled far away to Princess Dorothy's room, a person who he had grown fond of in his little life.
“Dottie, do you want to play with me?,” Trevor asked the princess. “Not today,”
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Dorothy answered, as anytime she spent time with the child she noticed that he was difficult because he perhaps had a learning disability. Despite her answer, Trevor remained in her room observing the things in it, and as Dorothy watched him, she thought to herself that it was a good thing he would never become king.
Looking at her enormous size in the mirror, Princess Leah rubbed her belly and the set of twins she had been carrying in her womb for the past eight months. A bit moody because she had seen her husband chatting it up with another woman, she had made direct statements on the matter of her disposition earlier in the morning to Prince Brian II.
She exactly did not trust him anymore because of his entanglement with Fiona Walsh, who up until a few years ago was the family's head nurse and in the papers was rumored to have seduced the future king.
“This is proof that women are more superficial than men,” Brian II declared, “a woman can dislike another woman just because she is prettier than her. But men, we don't dislike other men because another is more handsome, we dislike other men because the other man can do certain things better than him, like lead and court,” the prince finished.
“Lead?,” Leah laughed, “and who have you ever led? You don't know the first thing of leadership, and anything you ever knew about courtship you have forgotten it in the last few years. You don't even buy me flowers anymore!”
Just then their only current child, Brian III, ran into the room in hiding from some of the other children, and in his speedy nature, Brian II yelled at his son to calm down as to not destroy anything in the royal room.
About a mile west of this location, Prince Spencer and his wife Princess Elaine were waiting outside of their vehicle for a person to bring to them the family gifts. The vehicle was still on and the radio was blaring the new sound of rock and roll. As they were only a few years removed from their teenage years, the newly married pair were staunch supporters of the new sound in music, which did not exactly sit well with the elders in the royal family.
“I'm cold,” the princess told the prince. Spencer looked at his wife, and then back at the establishment without saying a word or removing his coat. “Can I have your coat?,”
the princess asked. “No, why did you think you would be okay with just a sweater?”
“Well I didn't know the heater to the car was damaged.” “Yes you did, I told you it wasn't working, you just never listen to me that's all.”
Elaine looked away angrily, half-freezing from the historically cold day. She thought to herself that the reason she never listened to her husband, or cook for him or clean after his messes or have even sex with him was because he was barely a gentleman. And Spencer, in his own mind, believed he didn't give her his coat because she was lazy and not at all a lady.
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When the wait was over they had received many gifts and packed them into the trunk of the car and drove a mile back to the main area of the estate where the large Christmas tree was located. During the drive Elaine increased the volume of the music, saying “At least the radio works.” The short drive back passed them through an arboretum filled with dead plant life and statues. As they passed through the arboretum, they saw Jeremy and Cassandra, along with their two young daughters, Jessica and Victoria, walking through it to make their way to the Christmas celebration that was forthcoming.
Though neither of the parents had mentioned it directly to the family, they were both jealous of the media attention that Brittany and Wayne were going to receive by the end of the day. Because the Flanagans were endlessly dissatisfied with their lives, it was their prerogative to increase their salaries by increasing the taxes on the people of the kingdom they ruled over. But shortly after the news of the tax-increase, it was the family's strategy to announce the recent cancer-diagnosis of Princess Brittany and Wayne's only son, Trevor, which of course was a blunt lie that would be later categorized a gross misdiagnosis.
And this strategic calculation would work; the Flanagan's raising of taxes would go unnoticed, Brittany would receive her well-sought after attention from the media, and every member of royalty would receive an increase in their wages. Despite this, Cassandra, immensely jealous, wished it was one of her daughters who could be used in the ruse.
Every morning, despite the day or the weather, Jeffrey Flanagan would go for a run throughout the royal estate. He would run along the paths that throughed the gardens, ponds, cemetery, arboretum, square, etc. And each run back to the main castle, he would take the same entrance back to his room, but today was most unusual.
There at the entrance stood Vivian, who knew exactly what time he would be approaching the entrance.
“Viv, what are you doing out here in this cold? Go inside,” he demanded. But Vivian had other plans and told him that she needed to talk to him.
“I went into your room and found these letters,” she gave him the letters. They were pieces of literature from an Iranian woman who was unnamed but had claimed to mother Jeff's child. Angry, Jeff nearly struck Vivian but held back, and then asked her, knowing the nature of his family, what she wanted.
If the Flanagans were to ever find out about the Iranian woman and the child she had with Jeff, he would be disowned for mixing the blood of royalty with another ethnicity.
What was far worse was the status of the woman; she was a prostitute.
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older than you, Viv, that is not possible even if it were make-believe.” “I don't want to have sex with you, I just want to spend time with you. Secret romantic picnics, secret romantic films. If you can agree to that, I'll make sure no one ever finds out about your half-breed child.”
After Jeff agreed, Vivian leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. It was strange to Jeff; he was not at all attracted to younger women, but Vivian was attracted to him the same way he was attracted to women much older than himself.
At 5 P.M., all of the Flanagan family, save Princess Dottie and Queen Brigid, attended the festivities and the opening of Christmas gifts. They each expressed inclement gratitude at their new possessions, and then the same way dusk falls onto day, they disappeared from eachother without warning.
The queen did not attend the event because her mental state was currently at its worse. She was now afraid of odors, claiming if she smelled something with any odor at all it would rewire her brain and make her think intrusive thoughts that are not her own. It had been this way for over five years now and no one could figure out what was truly wrong with her, it was only known that wherever the queen may have traveled, the odors in that area had to be absolutely unintensive. And when the smell of things could not be helped, she was forced to use nose plugs.
Situated in their part of the castle, Princess Brittany and Wayne turned on the television and began watching the recording of the princess's message to the kingdom about her son, Trevor, and his poor physical condition. She spoke of the cancer with tears, but in watching this over and over again in her eyes was only jubilation. And even her husband, though it was less intense, was excited for the coming attention his family was about to receive.
When Wayne was finished with his own jubilation, he left the room to finish a chore he had abandoned earlier in the day. As he walked through the grand and royal estate and his eyes followed the paintings of those before him, he walked down the same hallway as a passing Jeremy. When they first met, they had become good friends, but now they were enemies by proxy. They looked at eachother as one passed the other with a certainty of disdain, but this disdain was nothing in comparison to the scorn that Cassandra and Brittany had for eachother.
And one more person who had a scorn for Brittany was Princess Aubry, whose face was cracking and who still harbored a resentment for the attention she received from the media. One listening to the great family saga of the Flanagans might assume these two scornful women, Cassandra and Aubry, that they might one day plot to murder Brittany for her immense media attention and beingness of the face of the family, but while the Flanagans are many things, the women in this family as of yet are not killers. When they 72 | TORNADO ROYAL
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kill, it is always without intention.
One of the guests invited to the Christmas party was Orlando, the head maid Donna's only child. Though no one in the family other than Donna knew for certain, not even Ken himself, everyone suspected that it was Ken's child. Nearly twenty years old now, Orlando had only been to the estate one other time in his life, which was also the only other time he had ever seen his supposed father; aged six many years ago. Tonight the three of them sat in a room with a cackling fire.
Though there was a certain degree of uncomfortableness and a great degree of unfamiliarity, Ken's increased age seems to stiffle much of that. And as the three of them talked about many things, the nightly news on the television caught their attention. First it was a headline and an image of a person who Donna and Ken had known on the estate; Fiona Walsh, who the newscaster had described as being an Irish spy; a photograph of her mugshot was plastered on the screen for all to see, and she was further described as the angel of espionage as she swindled many men into truths. While she was no longer the family nurse, this concerned the prince and wondered what more of the family she may have known if she was sent to spy on them.
Before the prince could call for the other family members so they may also see the segment, he was struck further by the news which detailed Fiona's detailed account of a cover-up by the Flanagans. She claimed that Alexander Huntington, husband to Princess Aubry Flanagan, had raped and killed a woman and the family had the crime swept under the rug. And she suspected that there were more, much more, and cover-ups like this were common place upon the Flanagan legacy.
Fiona was not wrong. In fact, she was so not wrong that her allegations has induced someone's death. “Have you seen the news?,” Oliver and Reagan crashed into Ken's room and asked this question excitedly and simultaneously. “Yes, let's go get Donald so he can help us round everyone up, we need to discuss this immediately,” the prince demanded.
Everyone went their own way, and in going their own way Oliver and Reagan detoured toward the main butler Donald's room. They knocked on his door for a moment, even yelled out his name, but he never answered. They could hear the sound of the news-station inside his room, so they assumed he had already known, but in walking in, they saw that Donald had been lying on the ground, his hand holding drapes that were forcefully removed from the window. In his panic, his heart gave out under the assumption that Fiona would detail his ties to the Nazi party. His support and his funding of the organization.
They both walked up to him and turned him over, then inspected his body for any signs of life. There were none, and they knew he was gone. Knowing Don was a Nazi, Oliver and Reagan had already been playing out how the world would react if Fiona 73 | TORNADO ROYAL
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revealed this. And so to keep the family name clean of the horrific Nazi moniker, they devised ways they could completely eliminate his identity from royal association.
Donald Hurr leaves an intense meeting held by members of the Nazi party. (1950)
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Chapter 68
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3:2:7:68
DAY #21
The final ten days were among us. I used to be hard-boiled. Not that any of what I'm about to say next isn't still true, but I used to do things that another human being stayed clear of; I used to sit in the dark for hours and traveled as far as my mind could journey; I used to go days, weeks, perhaps at one stretch of time a month, without any human contact whatsoever; I used to absorb knowledge knowing fully well it would make me something inhuman. And now I find myself in a commercially community-garden with a girl, I say girl because that is exactly what she's acting like right now, who can't make up her mind about which flower she wants.
“After we leave here we should go to the restaurant, Sara was asking me if I could get her some legs for tonight,” I told her. I'm not sure she heard me.
Before we entered the garden's flower shop, we had spent about an hour in the actual garden looking at all types of flowers that the near-by community fostered. In the garden were all types of flowers; some that were closed and some that were open; some that were big and some that were small; some that smelled bad and some that smelled nice; some with dull colors and some with vibrant colors; but the flower she chose today looked like the aurora borealis sky at night during winter.
“That's the one you want?,” I asked. Before she could answer Sara appeared behind us with Kirby in the stroller. Sara knew we weren't far from the inn and were wandering around in the garden so she decided to join us. With this I ended up buying two flowers, but the one Sara chose wasn't real and was meant to be put in your hair.
We left the garden and went opposite the way we came to find the restaurant that Sara and I visited previously. Lynne was telling Sara about the aurora flower as we walked there, and suddenly, while passing through dining tables and chairs just outside the restaurant, I heard someone shout my name.
When I turned around, I couldn't believe it. It was the therapist I was suggested to see many years ago. We both recognized eachother immediately, and hesitantly, I walked toward him to speak to him more effectively. For some reason despite it being none of her business, Lynne followed me. Sara did not, and stayed at the entrance of the restaurant with Kirby.
The therapist stood up from his meal and shook my hand. “Small world,” he laughed,
“are you on vacation with your family?,” he noticed Lynne, Sara and the stroller. “Yes, we are here for a month, what about you?,” I tried to be polite in front of Lynne. “Just 75 | PRODUCTION CODE 00268
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enjoying my retirement in this lovely town,” he replied. I could see in his eyes that he almost didn't believe me, didn't believe that I was a family man and that I even knew of the concept of vacations.
I introduced him to Lynne and she shook his hand. When he looked at Lynne I could tell he was trying to analyze her. Not Lynne per se, but what quality in Lynne would be attracted to the qualities within me, but I could tell he was baffled. “You're married?,” he pointed at Lynne's wedding band.
Lynne replied before I could, “Yes, happily,” she smiled, “the absolute love of my life.” Before she could embarrass me any more I ended the conversation and told the therapist that it was nice seeing him again even though we both knew it wasn't.
Walking home from the restaurant I didn't say anything to Lynne but I watched her fix Sara's new flower into her hair.
When we got to the inn Sara went with Kirby back to their room to give David his food and Lynne and I went to our room. It was close to sundown as I watched Lynnette put her flower in a vase near the balcony.
She walks toward the bed and begins to take her pants off. “Question,” I said. Lynne turned back toward me and waited after completely removing her pants.
“Why did you tell that guy that we were married but told Jeff and Dorene that we were not?” “I knew you were going to ask me that.” I waited. “He was obviously some kind of academic or intellectual, and I could tell by the way he looked at us he was surprised by you. Almost like maybe he was one of your counselors who thought you wouldn't amount to anything. So I said what I said to make him feel stupid. When I was in high school they made me talk to someone because they thought I was depressed or had something wrong with me. All I really needed at that time was for someone to tell me I'm not the only person who's ever felt that way. And I became mad and wanted to prove that I would become happy my own way. I hope that answers your question.”
“I appreciate that you want to validate me, but you don't have to do that,” I told her.
She looked at me a curious way, and I could tell that she was getting irritated with me because it was the second day in a row I surprised her with sensitivity to a subject.
“You don't have to do that, okay?,” I almost cloned her irritation.
“I'm not scared of you,” she told me in a polite way. “I have no fear of you. Because I know if you ever lost your cool and hit me, you would feel so bad and the pain you would feel emotionally would be tenfold the pain I feel physically. You're a little mama's boy, you love me and you don't want to hurt your mother. I know you know that already and you knowing that keeps you in check which is why I'm able to feel safe. That's what you get for being a good little boy.”
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have been laughing or completely offended. There was truth to what she said. And for the second day in a row she has analyzed me and has gone two for two.
I walked toward her with my arms open and told her that I wasn't mad, I just wanted to hug her. When she put her arms out I turned her around so that her bum was facing me and I slapped her right butt cheek with a force I have never exerted in my life. I'm sure the people in the next room could hear the slap clearly. It was so impactful that it even turned my own hand red.
Lynne almost screamed, toppled over and fell onto the bed holding her right butt cheek. She was so surprised but also so angered at the pain I had caused her. Cursing me out I walked into the bathroom knowing that she would never say anything like that to me ever again.
DAY #22
The next day and the day after that, Lynne could not sit down comfortably. When she worked at the table she leaned on her left buttock or just stood up altogether. When she went to sleep she either slept on her side or on her stomach and never on her back. I had rendered her right buttock useless.
Still she managed to walk quite well when we all visited the tourist areas of the Flanagan estate. Dobbie told us that we couldn't leave this country without seeing one of its main tourist attractions. David must have needed fresh air because he actually decided to join us.
Before we went on our way with all the other vacationers we saw a crowd of protesters protesting against a recent tax increase. Inside, our tour was led by someone named Jessica Flanagan. In each room we visited she shared with us intimate details of her family and its history. What I found most funny was Princess Aubry's wedding interruption, some people are so dramatic.
When we went outside we visited the cemetery. We passed by a lake and through an arboretum to get to it, and on the headstones we saw the history of the royal family. Some of the headstones I read; Matthew Flanagan 1864 – 1930; Heather Flanagan 1861 – 1929; Brian Flanagan 1900 – 1962; Brigid Flanagan 1902 – 1976; Victoria Flanagan 1955 –
1982; Brian Flanagan II 1923 – 1997.
Halfway through the tour we were stopped as I overheard someone from security say the protesters were becoming more violent with mention of weapons. I believe I heard the mention of a Molotov cocktail.
I thought to myself, “Why are we even here? These people are not usually admired by residents of their country.” I pulled Lynne aside at the next chance I had and told her that 77 | PRODUCTION CODE 00268
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we were leaving. When she asked why I told her that I overheard someone speaking of how the protesters were becoming more violent and maybe even had weapons.
We told someone that Kirby was having personal issues and we needed to abort the tour and they led us out of the Flanagan estate.
We began walking back toward the inn; it was far but it wasn't far for us. On the way back we stopped at an ice cream truck and everyone got ice cream. As we walked and ate ice cream I simultaneously thought about when the therapist asked if I was here with my family and the threat of violence back at the castle.
Thinking back on rocks that float through space without any intention or meaning or purpose, and it ultimately being an action of pointlessness, when the average person attempts to answer why a human would want to stay alive, they might answer because of family, friends, responsibilities and passions. I don't know why anyone would want to be alive outside of these reasons, but these are all also subjective reasons and don't truly answer the question at a purely objective perspective.
I look at Lynne and her hurting buttock, David and his ice cream dripping from his chin, Sarah and her current state of non-stop hiccuping, Kirby and his constant attempts at speaking, and I see that family is enough to keep you alive and maybe even feel useful, but if this universe has no ending then anything in it is void of meaning or purpose. And because of my beliefs on life and living, I don't think it's possible to actually “waste” your life. Some people may live a foolish life, and others may live a life of “meaning,” but if the universe is eternal then a meaningful life over enough time loses its meaning until it is zero.
Entering the inn David was the only one who went to his room, Sara and Kirby came to ours. There was something I needed in Dave and Sara's room so I went over there, and the moment I walked in Dave immediately put down his laptop lid. We look at eachother.
“Are you looking at porn?,” I asked him. We both started laughing and I told him that I was only joking. I grabbed what I needed, looked at him one last time, then left the room.
After Lynne and Sara were done messing around with Kirby on the bed, Sara left, Lynne put Kirby in his crib and she herself went into the bathroom. I sat down and used the laptop because I wanted to look something up. I went to a searching site and input
“flower that looks like auroa borealis.” It is unlikely the flower expert chose this flower without reason, so I wanted to see if it symbolized anything or meant anything in particular. But after only a moment Lynne suddenly appeared right in front of me. I closed the laptop lid quickly and she looked at me strangely.
“You better be looking at pictures of me or pictures of dead bodies,” she warned. I opened the laptop and went back to my research.
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In the evening while we both lay in bed, she was looking through her phone and found a news article about someone throwing a Molotov cocktail through a window at the Flanagan estate today. The protester somehow found a way in, ran through security and hailed it through one of the windows, setting a small part of the estate on fire. The article detailed that the protesters were protesting against increased taxes that provided more wealth for the royal family.
“Good thing we left,” I told her staring at the flower she chose. She placed her phone on the nightstand near her and I'm assuming she closed her eyes to sleep as I can only see her backside.
I rolled over to her so that my body was pressed against hers and placed my arm around her. I began to gently suck on the side of her neck but she suddenly threw my arm away. “What?” “Do you think I'm in any state for that right now?,” she asked sharply. “It still hurts?” “Yes dumbass. So you can blame yourself because it's your own damn fault.”
I rolled back to my side of the bed. After a minute she said something. “Maybe if you rub it and sleep with your hand on it it will get better faster...”
I rolled back over and put my hand on her right butt cheek. I can't believe it's been about twenty days basically living with her and I haven't gone postal yet. But I think we're starting to irritate one another. It is remote, but it's there. Maybe she should stop psychoanalyzing me. Or if she's going to do it at least get it wrong like everyone else.
Then I would be able to validate my passive aggression.
DAY #23
Fourteen months. I've been in this fucking solitary confinement jail cell for fourteen months. Listening to the jester Spookieni every single day and every single night. He never sleeps and as long as he's awake he never stops talking. And the things he talks about are mad. Being down here with him is the worst hell anyone could imagine and I have gone fucking insane.
Tonight he was talking about the second World War and how the Nazis did experimental tests on the holocaust prisoners. And now he continues on the brutal nature of life and death.
“...I hav bin ecksposd to thingz dat disrup da nachurule humin ordur. Wen won diez of naychur it iz a reyouneon of da spearitz, but wen one diez uf an acksident, or sumthing knot involvd in naychur, liek a brootul kiling, dere is a disrupshun dat okkurs. Nd I feel dat in my witnissing of dese un-nachurule eckspeeriences, my ooan humin ordur haz bin disruptid beyund repare. Ive seen wit my ooan eyez soh miny groosum deths. I hav sceen crushed heds, extrehmiteez severd, bohdees chopd n haf, entestinez hanging frum da 79 | PRODUCTION CODE 00268
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toarsoh lik straynge spahgetty. But nun of dese hav kep me frum sleaping at nite. Dere is ounlee one ting dat falloes me ento my nitemares. It iz da crushd hed in wich da faysial feeturz remayne entakt. Et is a horroar I feel in my kore dat I cinnot fullee grahsp or uhnderstand or explayne. Yoo seeh da brayne madder nd meet and da sof tisshue lyeng on da payvemint beehynd a pface dat sumhowe had knot aulso bin distroyed, sumtiymes da mowth stile a littul oupin nd da eyez owt of dere sockits deep ento da hed mayking da eyez lik blac wholes, and it's aulmost az if da da sole is still aulive withen this persin and stuc betweene da worlde of da lihving nd da worlde of da ded, en entinse payne, becuz da nachurule ordur of deth haz bin enturrupted bye murder or acksident. You luk at dat pface and yoo ar luking at troo dysordere. Troo khaos in an otherwyze reesunable world. And I hav found no resolelooshin in thiz nitemare. The closir I git to da trooth, the less meening I find...”
I could only hear him but I could envision his demented face. I could feel within his voice the chaos and the pain and the need for abstract destruction. And then just like that, after foreteene months of hearing him in solitary confinement, a guard came to tell me I was free to go. For the first time in over a year I heard silence, but by then the damage was done, and I woke up.
It was four in the morning and still dark out and as I awoke I heard the toilet flush, and as Lynne walked out of the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bed on one buttock, it dawned on me. “How do you take a shit?” “How do you think I take a shit,” she snapped quickly at me. I wondered if she leaned like she was now or if she hovered.
The light from her phone outlined her body in the darkness and when she put it back on the nightstand it was once again all darkness. She laid back in bed on her side facing me and then scooted to be onto half on my body. I took hold of her and placed her body on top of mine, then passed my hand down her side where my hand landed on her right buttock. I began rubbing and massaging it and sometimes gently squeezing it.
My mind began to wander but my autoconscious muscle memory still massaged her under the thick blanket. I thought random thoughts until I landed on a series of thoughts I've had before.
The amount of numbers that exist between 0 and 180 is the same as 0 and 1. The subject of decimals allows for this statement to be true. How many numbers exist between 1 and 1? 0 and 0? For myself I would say zero.
If the value is identical, the range of numbers becomes zero, if the value is non-identical, an infinite amount of numbers can exist within the range. And so I would say the range properties of all numbers are either zero or infinite. I might also say that all values in the universe fall on either zero or infinite, and that these two possible values, zero and infinite, are key values in understanding the universe and the way it works.
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A way to envision the great infinite illusion is to observe the atom and the planet.
Through human perception we see the planet in the 0 to 180 range, and the atom in the 0
to 1 range, and we have already agreed that the amount of numbers within these two ranges is the same, and therefore the amount of information in a planet is the same as the amount of information in an atom despite the great difference we see between the two.
And to stretch the mind's imagination one more, this would be an identical case between a universe and its atoms.
If you begin two or more things, each at the same time but with different internal clocks, over enough time each of the things will become wildly different in their measurement of time. This is not just reserved for time but also for anything in which an aggregation is not equal between parties. This is in part because, as we reference the
"infinite illusion" concept, the difference between two unequal quantities is infinite. If one of the parties is even a trillionth of a second off, over an infinite amount of time the difference between this party and its peers is a quantity of infinity.
One way this illusion and this concept as a whole has affected our way of understanding reality is perhaps through the idea of "growth." When we think of growth, or something growing, it is usually in relation to something else; either itself or something in comparison to its current state. For example, when we think of a child growing, we instinctually compare the current state of the child to its former state; or we compare the child's current state to another child. But if every thing in the universe was equal in its relationship to time, growth would still technically exist, but would maybe be less observable. This tells us that the concept of "infinity," which must be tied to
"duplication accuracy", is the reason why we have the phenomenon of the infinite diversity of things.
DAY #24
Again the next day at four in the morning Lynne had been sleeping atop me as I massaged her bottom. We were both awake in the darkness and she had felt my erection against her. I wanted her in an inhuman way but she stopped me and told me that her right buttock was still dealing with pain, so soon we both began to fall back asleep.
“Spookie,” she said half-asleep. “Lashes.” “Did you really think that I looked pretty in pink?” “Yes, of course, super pretty,” I answered. She giggled. I continued in a more serious tone, “There are two things I will never do. I would never call you ugly or do anything to make you think you're ugly. Never. Not even in kidding. And I would never make fun of your disability. I'll die before I do either of those two things. I'll call you stupid sometimes but never ugly. I'll call you every insult under the sun; bitch, cunt, 81 | PRODUCTION CODE 00268
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republican, but I will never call you ugly and I think both of your feet are beautiful.” And with one of her hands she took hold of my non-massaging hand and interlocked our fingers, and then she quietly fell asleep.
It was difficult for me to fall asleep because it had been multiple days since and the feeling of bloatedness in matters of the pelvic region are entirely uncomfortable, and as I can only speak for men this is a region that feels best when emptied. And if you have grown tired of my unusual way of speaking, to put it bluntly, I needed to fuck her.
When I awake in the morning sunlight I see her standing near the chair using the computer. I didn't even want to look at her. The sight of her only reminded me of the pit of desire and lust in my stomach and testicles. Instead I laid back down until I got up again to check on Kirby & the Teenagers.
When I entered their room I saw that Kirby was sound asleep, Sara was on her phone and David was playing a game that looked familiar to me.
“What game is that?,” I asked out of sheer curiosity. “Death Wars 2,” he replied.
Death Wars was a game I had played with him a few months ago possibly for the entire day until we beat it, so I was interested in playing this one. “Is it better than Death Wars 1?” “It got better reviews, and so far seems like it.”
I sat down near Sara and took the controller that was next to her and David and I engaged in the story of a deathly war. And truly, for a long time, I didn't think of Lynne or her body. I felt I needed to stay away from her and this was helping. If I saw her I was liable to lose my mind. I know that she feels the same way which tells me her behind truly does still hurt too much to do it.
Halfway through the adventure Sara had leaned over and began resting on my leg, which was why when we finally beat the game and I got up, my lower leg was asleep. I tried walking around the room to shake it off and at times was making funny remarks to them about how my youth was so different than their youth. And suddenly, without me even hearing the door open, I looked up while the kids were laughing and saw Lynne standing in the doorway. I stopped my limping but she didn't give me anytime to explain the fact that I was not making fun of her disability.
I followed her all the way back to our room trying to tell her that my leg had fallen asleep because Sara was laying on it but she wanted to hear nothing of it. She even went so far as to call me a liar because in the early morning I said it was something I would never do, and I ceased following her when she closed herself in the bathroom.
Only a moment later she came out laughing, telling me that I was way too gullible and that she knew from the start that my leg had only fallen asleep and I was trying to shake it off. And that laugh. That gorgeous little laugh adorned with pearls. I probably should have been annoyed, but I was all pent-up with feelings. If you want to know 82 | PRODUCTION CODE 00268
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patience, your impulses must be tested. If you want to know lust, you have to be one gaze away from deflowering something innocent.
DAY #25
Along the boardwalk at a darker dawn, I jog-ran behind Lynne and we were paralleled the ocean for miles. This time we both listened to the same playlist and started it at exactly the same time. We have been together for so long that I wonder if the lyrics make us sometimes think the same thoughts.
Suddenly she hopped in a very womanly fashion with her arms out to her side over something on the boardwalk because there was no way around it. When I got to it I saw that it was a puddle of water and I adopted the same womanly hop to get over it.
Running with the early Sun shining down on her, I was reminded of a dream. Moreso, a dreamline. This dreamline was previously unknown to me before I met her, but learning of her existence introduced me to it. As a murderer, or more accurately, a serial murderer, I would pick up prostitutes of whom resembled Lynne and bring them back to a motel.
There we would have sex and I would find some way to manipulate them into staying with me. After they'd fall asleep, I would poison them and proceed to amputate their left foot. I would never have sex with their corpse, although there may be spin-offs of this dreamline where I do. Instead, I would dress them up and keep them presentable for as long as possible.
Each one of them did not reach that level of confounding beauty until I could not tell the difference between the impostor and the inspiration. But who was the woman I was chasing? Who was the true muse? Who was I running after? I had dreamed of her so many times but I knew of her only in another life. The sunlight on her shining hair; I must have chased her through the wilderness until I caught up to her and physically forced her back to my home. I must have seen desperate terror in her eyes. And those eyes, I cannot forget them. Burned into my memory for me to recognize in every life a thousand times over.
In that dreamlife right now I must be running after her. Chasing her unfamiliar to my character. I must have loved her... And if it wasn't love, all of the corpses that I thought I loved that are rotting underneath this ground must be puzzle pieces to my lustmap.
Lynne stopped at the end of the boardwalk and I stopped behind her. When she turned around she told me that her behind was beginning to hurt, but every word after that never reached me. I simply looked at her. Gazed at her. Each second that went by tamed made her more wildly beautiful.
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years, I had found it hanging off of a rose in purple light. When I reached for it, it was drawn into my hand and stayed there. And now that I had it, I was on my way back home to put it in a safe place. Again I traveled for miles and for years; through storms and snowstorms, through heat and heatstroke. And in all that time, her beauty never diminished and her light only grew in the darkness to guide my way.
The emotional world is where she has power and it is always where her beauty truly resided. This was a world I did not fare well in, so I had to get out of it as soon as possible and bring her purple light to the logic world. Truly the one world where I could give her protection. The world where she would shine brightest and I could see her.
I saw her in a dream ten years ago but the sight of her has faded. I know that she wore a dress but the color of it I have forgotten. And the dress brought out her eyes in a dream that cannot be dated. So the color of her eyes are lost on me in a fantasy that I am caught in.
And the sight of her hair it must have excited me so. But the color of it is something that I no longer know. Something that does come back to me is the general shape of her figure. But the intricacy of her delicate design is something I cannot reconfigure.
And her nose and her lips when smiling were perfect triangle tips. But for the life of me her smile is lost on me and hidden behind the eclipse. To remember her breasts and her bottom I try hard but the image does not come. I must have desired her so dearly underneath that midnight sun.
Her reflection is vague and she is a haunting spirit I will never find. But it is now that I see truly that love has always been blind.
DAY #26
Every thing in the universe, whether physical or abstract, in any plane, dimension, etc., has a degree setting to it. What is meant by degree setting is simply its numerical value in relation to other numerical values of the same type. For example, a radio has a numerical volume meter that controls how strong or weak the audio output is. Each color has a numerical frequency. Gravity has a numerical strength on Earth, and a different numerical value on other unique planets. An animal has a numerical value as to how much melanin they have. A human being has a numerical value at which, based on the circumstances, will become prone to anger. A particular outcome has a numerical value as to how likely it is to become true. Each one of these properties has a numerical value, or degree setting, that determines how it will be perceived in the universe. The important thing to understand is that every thing in the universe inherits this degree concept. It may or may not be a naturally selected concept. It may and probably is a base concept.
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Where does this effect come from? That is a difficult question, but imagine a universe where there is no degree concept at all. You can't, because such a universe is incapable of existing. There would be no concept of measurement, and its existence itself would be immeasurable, resulting in a universe that cannot logically exist.
We are left only with imagining a universe where this effect is indeed active. And what would happen if you were to introduce one numerical value to another? You may find transformation, or change. Transformation may also be a naturally selected concept, or perhaps a base concept, but it is observable when one degree concept is introduced to another. This is extremely observable in chemistry, such as throwing water onto fire, but it is observable in many other places as well, such as biology in the coding of proteins and manufacturing DNA. What is important to note is that in the process of transformation, each degree concept numerical value affects the number it is being introduced to, which also means its own numerical value will be altered when the transformation process is complete.
Here is something I've been working on to understand this transformation at its most base level:
EXAMPLE:
(a)+8 (b)x3 (c)x6 (d)-1 (e)+3 (f)+7 (g)/7 (h)x3 (i)x2 (j)-6 (k)x5 (l)-3 (m)/8
ORDER OF OPERATIONS RESULT:
(a)24 (b)26 (c)17 (d)9 (e)9 (f)7 (g)28 (h)0.8 (i)0 (j)60 (k)-4 (l)1.8 (m)5
SECONDARY RESULTS:
(a) (b)66 (c)15 (d)24 (e) (f)1.4 (g)42 (h) (i)-12 (j) (k) (l) (m) RECESSIVE RESULTS:
ALL COMBINATIONS OF SECONDARY RESULTS
SIMPLE EXAMPLE:
8 3 6 1 3 7 7 3 2 6 5 3 8
SIMPLE OOO RESULT:
24 26 17 9 9 7 28 0.8 0 60 -4 1.8 5
TEMPLATE:
(a) (b) (c) (d) (e) (f) (g) (h) (i) (j) (k) (l) (m)
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In EXAMPLE, the way to read the output is easy: (a)+8 [(a) is just part of the template that makes it easier to match correspondents. + is the operator to use on that numerical value. 8 is the degree, or numerical value.
Each degree will interact with the numbers on either side of it (the first number will only interact with the number to its right, the last number will only interact with the number to its left). The interaction assigned is dependent on the operation, for example, our first interaction, being between the degrees 8 and 3, will be one of multiplication as indicated by the x symbol. This interaction transforms the 8 into a 24. Moving on, the degree of focus becomes 3, and using the order of operations we will first multiply 3 by 6
to receive 18, and then add 8 to 18 to receive 26.
The result from using the order of operations will result in 26, but you can also choose not to use the order of operations, in which case this is labeled as a secondary result, which will result in 66. You get this by instead adding 8 to 3 first to receive 11, and then multiplying 11 by 6 to receive 66.
Secondary results are recessive results, meaning they are not expressed for us or the universe to practically observe. Instead, like a gene, they are repressed. The dominant result, which is the result found after correctly utilizing the order of operations, is what we will always observe. When a transformation is taking place we will never experience the recessive result, instead we are given to experience the dominant result. For example, the outcome of a race may have 1,000 variations, but we will only witness 1 of them. 1
will be dominant (OOO), the other 999 will be recessive.
The first interaction and final interaction never have varied results, they only have one result, which is a good way of indicating if a transformation is the beginning or the ending of a broader reaction (this reasoning may also be a good indication of how to study and understand beginnings and endings as deep concepts).
The degree concept is found in everything, and transformation, which is simply defined as the process of change, is found in every microprocess. This calculation utilized by the order of operations is constantly being executed, sometimes more or less complex, to select which transformations are expressed, and is in every facet of being.
After a very long walk with Kirby, Lynne and I entered the inn and began walking through the establishment. It was one of the longest walks I have ever taken. Where we are now is a condensed place with many buildings close to eachother. We walked so far that we found a place that was more of a suburb. It was spacious, and we walked on a wide pavement surrounded by lush brown and green trees and small houses. The path was like one of those you would jog or bicycle on, and because of the spaciousness it was much quieter, too. One of the things I noticed most were the pine trees. In the night, it may have painted well for the place I chased her.
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In the lobby of the inn a lot of the temporary residents were there, occupying it for a reason I do not know. The only person that stuck out to me was the man who insulted Lynne.
As we went for the stairs, I could hear the sound of something approaching from behind me. It was smaller and took quick steps. When I turned around it was a dog without a leash. It brushed past me and knocked into Lynne's leg, forcefully knocking off her prosthetic foot and causing her to fall over. The next thing I knew, the dog was running around the inn in a frenzy with Lynne's foot.
Every one noticed when I began running around the inn with it trying to catch it and retrieve her foot. Every second longer it took me to do so, it irritated me. And I know it irritated Lynne even more because now her exposed stump was embarrassing her.
As people looked on, I finally grabbed the dog by its neck and pulled it toward me, forcefully removing the prosthetic from its mouth. That foot was not fucking cheep.
I let go of the dog and begin to walk towards Lynne so she can put it back on and so we can leave, and as she did so, I caught the idiot staring right at her as if he had never seen a crippled person before. “What are you looking at?,” I spoke in his direction and it got him out of his stare. “...Nothing, sorry,” he walked away. Lynne looked up at me and then at the man walking away, now suspecting that the man knew that I knew what he had called her.
After she had put her foot back on, I folded the stroller and Lynne carried Kirby up the steps. And in the hallway at the top of the steps we saw the same man walking toward us, literally his hat in his hand. “Excuse me,” he said in our direction, and then began to walk toward us.
Most of the time he addressed and looked at Lynne in his apology to her, and he explained to me what happened between them a little while ago. He told us that he was just having a bad day and that he was ashamed he had attacked her with such vile words.
Lynne accepted his apology and he left us to be.
While laying in bed with Kirby in between us, I was curious, and Lynne and I had a conversation that asked if the man had apologized because he saw me and knew I didn't like him or if it was because he saw her disability.
Once Kirby fell asleep I came to the realization that she was laying on her backside. I asked her if her buttock was feeling normal, and she answered that it was feeling slightly better but still felt too much pain. I wondered if she was just punishing me. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you like that,” I said to her. “Don't worry, it'll all be over soon my handsome little boy.”
DAY #27
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Her majesty, wearing a white dress, took me to the back of the inn where there was a golf cart waiting for us. I looked at it suspiciously then asked her where she got it from.
She told me to sit down and she would explain it to me when we got there. “Got there?
Where?”
I sat in the passenger's seat and before Lynne sat down to drive I noticed she had put a pillow there for her bottom.
As soon as she turned on the engine some music began to play from the radio. I could tell it was sixties rock and roll. And so with the sound of the sixties we drove on the dirt road through a forest and something told me we were going in the direction of the lake we had ran to many days ago.
When we arrived at the lake I saw that I was right and wondered what she was doing when she exited the cart and went around back. I joined her and I saw what she had stored in the backside compartment of the cart. It was a picnic set with all the items you'd need for one.
I helped her set up the picnic area just outside the lake; a large blanket; baskets with fruits and peanut-butter jelly sandwiches and juice boxes, a little radio, and a few other things.
While we sat on the blanket facing eachother, she told me that she was telling Dobbie about the picnic dreams and of course Dobbie told her of the supplies she had to make the dream a reality.
Honestly, this was some crazy ass shit my mother would have done, and in my general nature I became suspicious of her. What if she is trying to poison me? I waited for her to take a bite of the peanut-butter jelly sandwich first, and after she did, while I was less suspicious, I was still suspicious.
I reached over and took her juicebox. “This box looks damaged. Here. Take mine. I don't want you breaking another nail,” I gave her my box. When she sipped from it, I was satisfied. “That was so sweet. I'm like your trophy, huh?,” she batted her lashes.
She handed me a clean apple and took one for herself and we munched on them for a while. “I don't know how long our picnic is going to last,” I said to her as I looked up at the graying skies. I almost made the mistake of saying “your picnic,” which I know at at least a subconscious level would have upset her.
So she got up, turned on the little radio to a certain song and then grabbed a banana from the basket. She put the banana up to her mouth and began slowly moving side to side until she began singing with the music in such a lovely voice.
♪ Blue skies
♪ Smiling at me
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♪ Nothing but blue skies
♪ Do I see
♪ Bluebirds
♪ Singing a song
♪ Nothing but bluebirds
♪ All day long
♪ Never saw the sun shining so bright
♪ Never saw things going so right
♪ Noticing the days hurrying by
♪ When you're in love, my how they fly
I was digging the song so much that I began clapping to her rhythm.
♪ Blue days
♪ All of them gone
♪ Nothing but blue skies
♪ From now on
♪ I never saw the sun shining so bright
♪ Never saw things going oh-so right
♪ Noticing the days hurrying by
♪ When you're in love, my how they fly
♪ Blue days
♪ All of them gone
♪ Nothing but blue skies
♪ From now on
The irony is that what I said about the sky is what reminded her that she was going to perform the song for me, and the fact that the skies were now gray. She sat back down on her pillow hoping the blue sky would return but there was nothing to indicate it would, instead it was getting slightly more windy.
The temperature decrease brought Lynne closer to me until she was sitting right up against me. I wrapped my arm around her and she placed her arms on top of mine. After a moment I moved one of my arms upward toward her and told her that I had picked this imaginary white rose for her. She took the invisible rose and began smelling it, telling me it was both the prettiest and nicest smelling white rose she had ever held. I would have picked her a real flower but seeing as there were none around us that wasn't option.
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was handing me what she proclaimed was a black rose. I took the invisible black rose and told her I had always wanted one of these things. After she laughed, she told me she gave it to me because her right buttock was now completely free of pain. She was the queen of innocence for so long, but soon that was going to change and she would become as impure as the darkest star.
The moment this thought passed through my mind rainfall had taken over the land.
We got up quickly and returned all of the picnic items to the compartment we took them from, and then I ran back and grabbed the blanket and threw it over the golf cart so that it would provide shelter for us from the rainfall.
It was a bit darker under the covers inside the golf cart and I leered at her the entire time. She looked back at me with a tenderness the same the soft fabric of her dress. “Who was that guy?” I had to think for a moment. “A therapist I was suggested to see many years ago.” Her look at me changed from confusion to curiosity to confidence. “I'm your therapist now.”
Thunder crashed a moment after she said this and an invasive wind blew at the blanket. It has been a week since we've been physically intimate, and while I couldn't see it, I could feel that my cock was pulsing with veins the sight of lightning.
Sitting comfortably without her pillow she started the engine and on came the sixties.
She drove for a bit and every once in a while in the silence she gave me an intimate innocent look, letting me know without words and with expression that she wanted to do as much to me as I wanted to do to her.
And that's when it happened. The cart suddenly dropped and we stopped. We already knew that the rain had created a mudtrap. I got out to inspect it and saw that we were caught in it, so I told her that I was going to rock the cart back and forth, and each time I pushed her forward, “pedal to the metal.”
I rocked her back and forth for a couple of minutes, each time getting closer and closer to escaping the trap, and on a final push she sped out of the mudtrap and turned right directly into a tree. I run up to the driver's side and pull up the blanket to find her laughing, and seeing that she was all right, I went back around to the passenger's seat.
When we finally reached the backside of the inn, we ran toward the backdoor and found our way in. I went to make a joke but already she had gunned for the stairs, and running after her I slammed the door to our room shut behind me and locked it. The rain was hitting the windows hard and the same windows spoke of a dark sky illuminated by flashes.
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her lower legs hanging off of it. I grabbed my cock with its protruding veins and put it inside her. She stretched and it went in so easily because she was already so wet. Each time I went in, I went in deep, and each time I came out, the suffocating skin of her pussy that gripped me tightly revealed itself and followed me out. Being suffocated and choked by the strength of her tightening did more for me than any pills or therapy could ever do.
The healing energy of being so deep inside something so beautiful, its comfort found your darkness and siphoned it out of you.
I grabbed her sides on one irregular thrust and started banging against her bottom harder. She made tiny sounds and she must have felt my pulsing veins on her walls. Her butt beat wildly abrupt my body, and loudly, too, and had it not been for the weather I would have been forced to be more tame. But in this exchange no one was tame, I was unhinged, and I gave to her exactly what she desired.
When the thrusts slowed down and became weaker, she knew her power over me. I grabbed her by her thighs and moved her further onto the bed so that her lower legs were no longer hanging off the edge, and then I climbed onto the bed myself. On the middle of the bed I put my cock inside of her again. Like before I watched as the skin of her pussy went back and forth with my dick.
I gently smacked her bouncing buttcheeks and then grabbed both of them, squeezing them and manipulating two handfuls. As I became rougher with my thrusts, she made again tiny sounds and I watched as she grabbed the bedpost with one hand and squeezed the blanket with another.
I was again fixated on the sight of me entering her over and over again. And as I squeezed her bottom harder and thrusted harder, I lost myself in her healing energy and felt the release and emptying of the bloatedness I had carried for days. We had both orgasmed so hard, and when I collapsed onto her back, her body gave and collapsed onto the bed.
Heavy breathing is all that could be heard. And I was so wrapped in feelings that I didn't want it to be over. I grabbed my cock again and spread one of her cheeks to the side and slowly plunged into her. Laying on top of her, I repeatedly felt her bottom press against mine as I fucked her. I ran my hand through her hair and at times pulled it, thrusting harder and more heavily. The heaviness of my thrusts caused her to bite the pillow her face was pressed against. And through and into the pillow I could hear her moaning softly and uncontrollably. Her moans made my thrusts heavier, rougher, to the point I was slamming so hard against her that her prosthetic came off and fell onto the ground. I stopped and looked over the bed but only heard a rough demand from her,
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