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Alright. So I'm not Jile. That's obvious. I know if I were to do a huge freaking individual goodby I'd forget someone and feel like a d**k. So I'm not going to. Also, despite my urges, I will not go through a "******** You ******** You YOU'RE ******** you I'm out."
I had considered just leaving a mega collage of the 111 in all it's wierdo glory taht I imagine: circus side show. No guys...I love the side shows. Always have. But of course there's the forgetting thing, plus my ability to draw decresses exponentially with every person added to the scene. It would have been a mess. A well meaning mess, but a mess.
So anyway, I decided to leave you all the way I came in. With some taxidermy, and a story. Consider it a present. This is outside the regular story arc of Adventures in Taxidermy, intended for nothing but your own reading. There are mistakes. It's rushed through, and it's not anything brilliant, but who am I kidding? Like I started out that way either. rolleyes
So yeah. This is my good bye present. It is for those of you who might enjoy it. For the others, well...meh. It must not be for you.
It was an ordinary day in the city of April. A day so profoundly ordinary, so painfully mundane, that any clever person would wait in bated breath for something extraordinary to happen. After all, extraordinary events are often prone to happen on lackadaisical days. But for the day of which I am speaking, that clever breath would remain forever bated.
Nothing happened. Adults went to work, children went to school, babies cried, cats meowed, and dogs barked, and still nothing happened. The day came to its closing hours. Families found their ways home, crying was stopped, started, stopped again, and the cats put outside. And along with all the thousands of other people in April, a seven year old girl walked up the front steps of a house, opened the door, and stepped inside.
It wasn’t her house. The girl had run away from home, and decided upon a magnificent pieced together mansion that looked halfway to being condemned for a place to spend the night. And while most children turn heel and run back home before reaching the end of the block, this particular girl was determined to run away from home and stay that way.
It is not that she was mistreated. Far from it. The house she ran from was loving and kind, but there is something romantic seated in the thought of running away. And a bit of romance can go a long way in the mind of a seven year old girl.
Romance, however, does little to keep the monsters of seven year old fears from crowding around dark houses. The girl tip toed her way to the stair case and slowly touched her toe to the first step. An enormous groan howled up at her, and the girl drew back as if a fire had sprung from the step. She drew into herself in fear as a long orange tentacle wrapped itself around her ankle.
“Oh stop worrying, Amy. I’m sure it can’t hurt us. It’s just a staircase.”
“Mahogany!” The girl smiled and hugged the orange octopus tightly.
“Alright that’s enough. Well if this is going to be our new home we had best find a bed, don’t you think?”
She nodded emphatically. The octopus raised a brow. “Well? Up we go, then. Nobody keeps their beds on the bottom floor.”
The girl frowned and chewed on her lip. Granted, the two of them had never seen a house other than the one they had run from, but it seemed true enough. She shut her eyes tight and closed her hands into fists, then ran up the stairs on all fours as fast as she could. Mahogany was already waiting for her.
“Now was that so hard?”
She stared at him, shuddering and clenching her hands. Her head gives a rapid “no” movement and they continue to make their way through the house.
None of it is suitable for a seven year old and her imaginary octopus. The rooms are too well furnished, and too stuffy. One is almost completely filled with artifacts that look designed specifically for breaking and getting small children into worlds of trouble. Amy and Mahogany feel ill at ease until they continue up the last flight of stairs to find a small attic room with nothing more than a work bench, and a large over stuffed armchair.
“How about this one?”
He didn’t need to ask. Amy’s smile said it all. It was the room for her. She settled into the arm chair with her legs pulled up on the cushion, and burrowed into the corner of it to keep warm. Outside something happened. Nothing big, but large enough to create a noise, and it startled the girl. When one has run away from home, it takes very little reminder that one is in the wrong place. She jumped. Mahogany noticed.
“Are you alright?”
Amy shook her head yes, then no. The house was getting sort of dark. She wasn’t sure.
“Are you afraid to be so far from home?”
She shrugged.
“Do you want to hear a story?”
“Yes.”
“Good. What kind?”
The girl grinned from her burrow in the chair. “Fairy princess.”
“Alright. Once upon a time, in a garden not to far from here, in fact it might have been a green house but I’m not too sure, lived a beautiful fairy princess named Kinicky.”
“Kinicky?”
“Do you want to hear the story or not? Anyway, Princess Kinicky had the absolute best personal assistant in all the land: Dodderberry.”
She stifled a laugh and the octopus gave her a pointed look. “If you don’t want to hear it just say so now because I could do quite…”
“Please! Kinicky!”
“Alright but you’ll have to be quiet. So Kinicky and Dodderberry had this terrible task, the absolute worst task of any government: the fairy census. Poor Princess Kinicky and PA Dodderberry had to round up all the fairies in the kingdom and document their birth parents, and their fairy political party leanings, as well as favorite soda testing, and they were only given a month! Just one month for all the fairies in the kingdom. So do you know what they did?”
Amy shook her head no. She had no idea how anyone could accomplish such a task.
“They delegated. The end.”
The girl wrinkled her nose, entirely confused. Usually fairy princess stories include at least one battle for the custody of an enchanted sword. But she knew better than to question Mahogany’s authority on fairy political systems.
The wind blew a shutter against the window, and Amy collapsed further into the chair.
“You’re not still scared are you?”
“It’s dark.”
“Is that all? Why didn’t you say so!”
Mahogany left Amy in the attic room before she saw him move and he was back before she could get mad at him for leaving. In his tentacles he held a kerosene lamp and a book of matches.
“Here we go!”
He lit the lantern inside of the lamp and slowly turned the key down to a dim glow. Amy smiled, feeling much safer. Mahogany climbed into the chair with her, and they drifted off to a comfortable sleep in a place far from where they came.
Outside a light began to shine in the topmost window of a long abandoned house, but no one noticed. After all, what is one more light amongst a cityscape? It was dull, insignificant, mundane. But it was a tiny trivial beginning to a much bigger something and that is anything but ordinary.
Cheers, Ogdred Rum
Ogdred Rum · Mon Jul 31, 2006 @ 06:54am · 7 Comments |
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But I can't find a picture because it technically doesn't even exist. It is that custom. Oh, I can't beleive I was in the same vicinitie of it. Silver and dark red, looked like an italian boat with wheels. The headlights were freaking detatched from the car! Rabbit fur lined trunk! That's so pimpin a rapper couldn't come up with it. It takes a true Italian man to think this s**t up!
I wanted to touch it, but that would have been disrespectful.
I also saw the car that fits my Queen of Random title. An Amphicar. Under the "special features" part of the discription, they wrote "IT FLOATS!!" Yeah, that's pretty special. 44,000 dollars. I don't have enough body parts to sell.
Now if I could get six thousand for a kidney, I could so get a Corvair. Wait! Don't they give you five thousand for ovaries? I've got two!! I won't be using them! Maybe I'll hold on to one for that whole "estrogen" thing. Sweet. I so have a plan.
Ogdred Rum · Thu Mar 17, 2005 @ 04:59pm · 2 Comments |
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The answer to my riddle, and the first post of my journal. |
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Today, I shall initiate this with a post in white text. However, if you were to do a bit of searching, the answer would be simply found.
THE ANSWER TO MY RIDDLE IS: ISADORA DUNCAN!
I think I will also write about Andy Worhalling my character Lenore. I did it last night in cut paper, acryllic paint, and charcole. I HATE charcole with an unbridled passion of a thousand dirty pirates, but I love the eraser it came with. I can mould it, and it erases everything without rub marks! My favorite Lenore is in monochrome though. All blue, put together like a puzzle, and looks like woodblocking. Oh yeah, I rocked that 'ard core. Because rocking any art project is hard core. It's written in the bible.
Whoot! Meaningless babble! I'm gonna go fix my hair now, and get ready to go to the studio!
Ogdred Rum · Sat Mar 12, 2005 @ 04:43pm · 0 Comments |
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