Saturday, September 17, 2011

STRANGE, COMELY WITCHES TICKLE THE ETHER IN A CHESTNUT HILL COFFEE BAR

this is not a regular post. It's me, wilkravitz. I am tapping this out in a coffee bar on Germantown Avenue, the trendy, cobbled, neo-colonial commercial spine of  Chestnut Hill. All is copasetic back at the Glen Gary Road house. Maybe we should not  name the street all the time, but what difference is it going to make? Most of you go right on believing we're just fiction no matter what we say. maybe it's better that way.

Although, some of the locals know better. younger readers sommetimes know who I am. they recognise me. How? not sure. I think a few of them are witches. Like the one sitting near the stone fireplace (first flame this season). Always takes her coffee black. Sprinkles some kind of dried, crumbled leaves in it. And she wears this talisman around her neck. Don't know what it is. Looks like a naked Barbara Walters holding up a plate of spaghetti. Not sure. But I don't want to stare.

she sees me. she nods. I nod back. Everybody else sits bent over their magic keyboards. no one so much as looks up. I think they live here. another twenty-something female quietly enters and joins the might-be-witch. they exchange greetings in some unknown tongue. The onne with the naked barbara walters around her neck laughs.

But here's the funny part. I could swear I ate all of my big oatmeal-raisin cookie (quite the toothsome treat). Yet upon glancing down at the small white plate, I discovered that was not so, for a complete, unviolated fragrant one was staring  right up at me (two of the raisins looked just like eyes). then, when I picked it up to take a bite, the witches began to giggle. Plus, the sound system, or Surius, or whatever they got, started playing Days of future Past (or is it Passed? I can never remember)...one of my favorites.  Best of all, this big, painful zit I had commandeering the left side of my nose was miraculosly gone. I could feel it. I was healed.

the witches gave me a knowing look........I nodded and mouthed a quick 'thank you.' .....they nodded back, gathered up their things (fine, tooled, leather satchels...thin, wool chalis scarves... you know, 'witchy stuff'). But as they exited out into the chill, gray afternoon, a rogue gust of wind...a  tiny, whip-like tongue, blew a scrap of paper up from their table and sent it swirling and dancing over to  me. It came down right over the third button on the fly of my vintage Levis blue jeans. I picked it up. there was a phone number and one short sentence. it said - take us to your leader..........No, two short sentences. there was something on the back...it said - call us...........

I told you this wan't a real post. that will probably come later. and I don't know who I'll be channeling. but I just thought I'd fill you in on what was happening. you know, give a little bit of the 'back story.'

Let me finish my cookie. We'll talk some more tonight............

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please excuse my erratic typing. the experience left me a bit 'aggitated.'  please leave comments, plus a link where we can get back to you.........thank you, wilkravitz

LAILAH IS IN THIS....ERIC CLAPTON IS NOT.......JIM MORRISON (temporarily dead) STILL WANTS TO BE....SAM COOK MAY BE

Why did Roland do it? Why did he share the 'night kiss' with Lailah? To what purpose? He had never done the like before. Did Papa send him? Could it have been Renate? No...not her. She was more like a benevolent observer. She rarely plays around with humans. So whay's she doing running around with three iconic singer songwriters from the 1960's, one of whome was temporarily dead? I do not know. This one (an unmaned spirit) only shares those bits of the akoshic record made known to me.....They (whoever 'they' are) do not show me much. That's why we're compelled to deal this out soap opera style.......Ooooh! A clue! why did I say soap opera? I do not know. Could it be that this one was once a player in a company of soap opera performers? I do remember a certain recurring Dreft commercial. And this one seems to remember being spoken to on the radio by some human organism called Cindy Adams.......I wonder if she could be related to Morticia?....No....'they' spell it with two d's.

Lailah's been dispatching victims on a regular basis. Claims she has the visions. Who am I to judge.......Oooh! There's another word......'judge.'........I think I served on a panel  with a bunch of desperately insecure, lesser known actors and political hopefuls. I think we were responsible for chosing a new Miss America.....Such a heavy burden. I hope and pray the nation prospered under her moral direction.

She hunts in a diverse manner. One time it's the marketplace. Another time, a hotel lobby. It's hard for her to gain entry to the bars they usually have there, since she's chained inside the body (her own) of a fifteen year old girl. Soon, with more experience, she'll develope the ability. She'll be able to make 'vampire eyes' at them. Then our little Lailah will be able to go anywhere she wants, Her modus operendi is still the light, almost painfree kiss. True, there might be a slight pinching, or tugging of the flesh, as she breaks the skin, but so what? Didn't you ever apply pressure to an especially stubborn pimple?....Well, then you know what I mean. The 'pop' that comes after makes it all worth while. I'm told the guilty organisms she (and other 'noble' vampires, as well) dines on experience a certain karmic release when they die. No more guilt. No more responsibilities. Lay it all in the Lap of The Lord and let Him deal with it....Does he ever burn them in an eternal Lake of Fire?......Well, I've never detected it.....From what I can piece together, it's all a matter of tit for tat.....Reap what you sow and all that. Eat all the pain you've caused in the world. Die with each of your victims. Experience the torment till you've paid it all back.....Then, I don't know what they do with you. Maybe send you back into the flesh, or if not that, a spiritual muse to inspire the living. My cousin wanted to be the tooth fairy, but they just laughed and told him he was crazy. So now he's a muse. Whispers in the ears of butt sculpting 'doctors' and permanent boobie vendors. You see his work in New York and Philly mostly. Somebody else does it in L.A., but I do not know who that is.

Jerusalem, especially the Old City and the immediately surrounding districts, is a small place. Lailah often spots people from her old congregation. Some of them even approach her. Her distraught father hasn't told everybody. Most of them probably think she's still alive. Girls don't wander the streets much in their culture, especially at night, so how many times could they have seen her anyway? A few after dinner visits, maybe? Yet they'll come over to her. They address her by name. They speak to her. Usually, she just turns away and walks off, leaving them to wonder if they've made a mistake. Sometimes she feigns ignorance. Her dress is still modest and dark. What worked for the daughter of an Armenian Orthodox cleric, works for a vampire too. Maybe it's good she still remembers all those prayers, because she cries and shakes a lot after every kill. Mouthing the old liturgy over and over seems to comfort her....Who knows? Maybe she's just hypnotized?

She sleeps in a lot of different places now. Dark cellars mostly.  And yes, the insects and rodents still scare her. Jean-Michel wants to do something. You know how he has some type of subliminal relationship with her father (go back and wander the tale). He feels responsible. But give her time. I'm sure she'll construct a more comfortable 'life' for herself. She's smart. She'll learn the ropes. Maybe then, they'll get together. After all...she must have been created for a reason?.....Right?

Maybe Jonathon will find out.......