Sunday, June 3, 2012


Annie laid on the carpet, quietly coloring in her coloring book. Sarah and Tomas observed from the divan. They whispered to each other. Oh, the little vampirina heard everything. But she didn't care. It was not time for that now. This new book was all about Lady GaGa nursing sick children in Africa and she was busy scribbling fancy hair-doos on everybody's head. Not Lady GaGa...Annie, I mean.

Sarah said - I know what Papa can do. I remember what he did to me. Imagine contemplating eternity on a vast flat, featureless, metallic plain...... an endless, gun-metal expanse, stretched out under a gray, dim, hazy sky...... No sound.... No breeze....No nothing...... And do you know what I think?.... No, I don't 'think' it. I know it. He's done the same with others and some of them are still out there....... Ten thousand years in a place like that.... They walk. They run. They think - Maybe it will be different up ahead. But it never is. A world without change. A place without hope..... And what's worse is knowing it's not just an illusion. He doesn't conjure them up. They're all real....... She snuggled close and sighed.

Strange place, this universe of ours - said Tomas. Look at her, choosing colors just like any mortal child. I get her the sixty-four crayon box. She likes that. And none of the 'off' brands. No dollar store stuff. It's pure Crayola for our little Annie...

Edith came in from the kitchen, giving each a glass of some icy, cold gin-like, thick, syrupy stuff. 'Pims' I think they call it. Supposed to be big in the Tin Isles.... Excuse me, Britain, I mean....... It's me. It's Zebulon. So you'll have to excuse the occasional archaic lapse. After all, I remember the vintages of Shiloh. And the wines of Crete were especially prized in our house.

But Annie could do wondrous things. Not 'wondrous' in the good sense. More like incomprehensible or unimaginable.... But wondrous just the same...... The 'enemy' knows...... And he wants to know more.

Papa is so proud of his little girl. Perhaps he'll pilfer a museum and bring her a doll-like mummy baby? She loves mummy babies.... dresses 'em up in outfits.... tells 'em little stories.... And then, when they start to fall apart, she and Edith make soup out of them.

I believe they sell it to a 'new age,' folk remedy, healer's shop in a basement level establishment on Sansom Street.

(episode 671...or maybe more... I forget)

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