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|| -------- -- ----- A E R I E O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 104--7/19/96 <------- || OsoaWeek || Issues || Book 8 || -------> (Cup OWis104, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN104OW]] [[01104CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 1 0 4 * * * July 19, 1996 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora CONTENTS 01 104 CV--Cover 02 104 LA--Lord of Obliviana 03 104 LM--Life Mysteries 04 104 SU--Superior OsoaWeek104, July 19, 1996 Thirteenth issue of OsoaWeek Book Eight Written by Frank Edward Nora (except where noted) Published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement obliviana@aol.com 1-800-OBLIVIANA http://www.obliviana.com/~osoa All contents copyright 1996 Frank Edward Nora Regarding this file, you are free to make digital copies, so long as they're not altered or sold. All other forms of reproduction require permission. An Obliviana Cup containing this file will be available. Stay tuned for more details. ASCII Characters: 8056 / Words: 1457 / Lines: 244 Days late: 16 *OW* [[02104LA]] Lord of Obliviana Sun 8/4/96 * 3:57 PM * home * Tarb 4432? The end of Book Eight, only 16 days late, whattaya know. Well, from here. I move on to Book Nine and the first Trick Sojourn of Obliviana Primal, which is already going on. I'll be presenting two of my brother John's Life Mysteries here, to get it back in synch with OsoaWeek, as is, starting off its second Book at 14 instead of 13. Okay? That's it then! Things are coming back into focus! And that is GREAT. Get all Obliviana. *OW* [[03104LM]] Life Mysteries LIFE MYSTERY 12 "Bobcat Drivers" by John Nora Jerry drives the bobcat like a docile construction animal. When I come back with the right bobcat parts he says, "Good. Good." Craig drives with more violence, that brawler, with small flying concrete chips onto our toes. He says, "They don't fuckin' hire handicapped people, 'cause they don't want to look at 'em." Craig looks like the Marlboro man, having almost quite sown his wild, cowboy-hatted oats. Craig has a house and a wife, and a large, chainlinked property, complete with a succinct and obvious gravel runway-bat-tunnel for the dumptruck—next to something like a boathouse, but in New Brunswick, New Jersey terms I guess it's a dumptruckhouse. Jerry asked me what I was going to grad school to study; I could be a teacher... So to end with a little poem: In the world of Construction I'm a babbling fool. In the world of Letters I could be cool. LIFE MYSTERY 13 "The Running-In" by John Nora A young woman stood in her bathroom, wearing long, bleached blue boxers, and an open, long, beige short-sleeve shirt. They were her boyfriend's clothes. She shrugged off the shirt and started making muscles in the mirror. (She had some.) Then, when she was done swiveling about her bra-less, cagey brawn, she hugged back on the shirt (the tiled walls and floors were chilly to her skin and feet) and pulled the boxers down around her knees. She crooked her legs and back over the toilet-bowl, hands on the cold toilet cover, because she wanted to pee standing up. It turned her on. She couldn't stand casual and straight-legged like a man, but at least this way she would hit the toilet bowl walls (or water, even, if she rolled her abdomen up and in some more). She started a long, bright yellow peeing. As she was doing this, she heard what she could have sworn she had heard: Someone running rapidly down her front stairs. Short, light legs like a light troubling in her thoughts. She had no kids, or anybody, in her house that morning. Then before her brain could sort to a squirrel's shingle-beatings, what happened next happened next. At first it looked like a little bum or child in gabled shadow, what swept pattering through the half-closed door in her left periphery. Pap, pap, pap went the feet, around her back to her right. She looked down over her shoulder and saw a horrid little goblin. She had gone to the bathroom now partly all over the floor. He stood there, in the clear, tepid dimness that belonged to the blank wall area, that was underneath the pale-sunlit window. His torso was sort of like a chestnut, and he had dark green and black hide, with evil tarantula tufts at every one of his joints. His face was half Curious George, half putrescent derelict. The eyes were cloudy grey from carousing with the dark rustle of people's attics. Some people may have reacted differently, but at this sight the woman backed away from the toilet one, two steps, and started right at the high end of screaming. Scream! Scream! Scream! Scream! Scream! Scream! Scream! Her body and boxers and shirt had toppled over the white, shiny shell of the floor. Her shoulders and back and head were propped against the tub. Scream. Scream. Her screams grew less and less. Soon he had freezed her into a stock-stillness. She was pretty. She was beautiful. It was one of his powers. He told her about the shade and the loons and the beautiful things in life, in an elegant Lithuanian voice. "I was to scare you, now I have scared you enough," he said. Her legs were free of cellulite, that his webbed hands gently gathered up where the boxers were at the knees, and with disproportionate strength shifted them under the straight gazelle steel legs of the sink (which towered over both of them). He did this to sit her up against the tub more. She watched the goblin reposition her legs and trunk. She noticed his head was more of a childish raisinette. Her breasts lay white and soft, and her forearms were lazily wired with veins. The beige shirt she wore was now also the only clothing in the vicinity of her naked, shaved crotch. The goblin told her one more thing about the clouds and the sky and the rafters. He then walked with his head down sort of funnily out of the bathroom. Then she heard him go back to running up her stairs, maybe to see him again. She listened to two construction workers walking by outside. They were walking briskly on pavement and talking to each other, about whether or not they would be getting laid that weekend. *OW* [[04104SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 568 * 8/4/96 Brand. Waves of manufacturing I am aghast at the thunderstorm of dice. Video gods, sky pure as roofs, quite an alloy, temperaturial combat, said it as I sped on. SUPERIOR 569 * 8/4/96 Quango, quasi non-governmental organization, saw it in the dictionary. Quant, saw that too, cool. SUPERIOR 570 * 8/4/96 Little girl in the woods, all alone, her only friend a squirrel, and only one walnut left. Unable to bear losing her friend, she puts the walnut in a box, and the squirrel comes no more. Years later she is starving and opens the box to eat the walnut, but there is a white silk scarf in there instead, and it is blown away by the winds of the blizzard outside, and she chases it through the heavy snowfall, barely able to perceive it, white on white, losing it and finding it and then she falls and falls, into the underground paradise of the squirrels. And the squirrels ask her why she didn't come sooner. And there are other little girls here. And she lives there, happy, sleeping with the other girls and talking philosophy with the squirrels. SUPERIOR 571 * 8/4/96 Bunkbed made of drugs, orange wine and ancient music. SUPERIOR 572 * 8/4/96 Menlo Park All. Here it is, all I remember of the old Menlo Park Mall. They tore it down and built a new one, but the old one is still in my mind. There with my mother, a fountain by Macy's and a pet store, I was very young. An arcade, a record store, I was going on a road trip by myself, just starting to love The Beatles, looking for the song Penny Lane, but they didn't have Mystery Tour, so I got Abbey Road, and I listened to it on the Interstate and at the airport where I was wandering before that and the end of She's So Heavy was so confusing and I am not sure. The mall, a place like The Cookie Machine, good smell. And going there... the orange and brown tiles... and the mirrors on the edges of the ceiling, and a stairway going down, just for employees, and the curved sides of a bank or something in the middle of the mall, and I kind of loved it, and I have much more to tell. *OW* [[END104OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- ----- |