|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- THE MILDRED CORK--CUP 12--"HUMORLESS & WASTED, BUT STILL BEAUTIFUL" <-------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  The Mildred Cork  ||  -------> (Cup SRmc012, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = This is Walt. I don't know where I am. Last thing I remember, I was chained to a smokestack. But my bonds came loose, and I started to fall. Huh. I remember feeling like as if it were an amusement park ride--just close your eyes and hold on tight and it'll be over in a minute. But the last thing I remember was thinking, "It IS over--my life." And I thought about how it sucked that I'd never get to meet my Mildred. Then... what? I had the sense that a lot of time had passed, but I was still kind of incoherent. But I was--I don't know. It was dark and quiet, but I could feel myself breathing. Well, kind of. It was like... oh shit... like I was paralyzed or something. I mean, I felt like I was in my body, but... I mean, I was awake, but I couldn't do anything--like I had no leverage between me and my body. I couldn't even open my eyes. But I felt the breathing... so I was alive... good. Or was it? I started to panic, but it felt weird. No adrenaline rush, no chills, no coldflash. But it was still panic. Would I spend my life paralyzed? Or worse--paralyzed, deaf, and blind? Maybe--maybe there were people around me right now? But with no connection to the outside, I'm totally cut off from them. God. I felt so bad, thinking about my parents and my brother and sister. What they must be going through. They could be inches away, but how would I know? I never heard of a case like this. I mean, I've heard of people being braindead, but they gotta be able to detect these thoughts! Unless... god... what if thoughts are a function of the soul and not the brain? They could be reading me braindead, but I'm not! Crap. I wonder if my parents will decide to pull the plug. I wouldn't put it past them. Jeez! I tried hard to move, to yell, to blink my eyes, to moan, to THINK hard enough to register on their machines. Then I just quit. If this is it, this is it. I thought about summer day camp, for some reason. Pretty cool place. They gave you beads for doing all these different activities. Man, the counselors seemed so old then. What could they have been--17, 18? I don't know. But it was cool in the woods. Cool in the woods... I decided to stop worrying and just think about pleasant things in my past. If I was to face death, then so be it. I'm not the first, and I won't be the last. So I relaxed (kind of strange, relaxing without any physical feedback) and drifted. Thinking about this one girl at camp... I had no chance with her, I was such a dork, but just to look at her, it was heaven... And later that year, after school had started, they sent us a brochure for the camp, and there was this AWESOME photo of the girl there. You know, just like a sample of kids having fun. But those eyes--so deep, so piercing... I used to look at it and try to psychically contact the girl--even convinced myself that it was working. And I'd carry on these conversations in my head, between me and Erika Stalker. I always thought she had such a cool name... I knew that I was making it all up, so I wasn't totally insane. But it was a pretty deep mind game. Then I'd kind of put it on the line, and ask her if she was near a phone, and she said she was. Then I told her to call my number. She said she was doing it. And I'd look at the phone and get a momentary rush--what if this actually worked? I was in no shape to talk to a girl for REAL! But of course, the phone never rang. I asked her telepathically what happened, and she said she must have dialed the wrong number, cuz some mean old guy answered, and I theorized that it must be hard to communicate numbers via telepathy. Huh. Pleasant thoughts from the past--I don't know if that's so pleasant. Schizo childhood madness. "Are you there?" WHAT? A voice... a real voice, back here, back in the darkness... a beautiful, deep, rich, female voice... "Hello?" I thought as loud as I could. "Is that you, Walter Jay Mota?" "Yes. That's me." I thought, my mind racing wildly. Erika? Could my recollection of the event have actually...? I mean, maybe in this state, my psychic powers were strengthened... "Thank goodness you're alive. Things didn't look too good for a while there." "What?" "I'm sorry. You must be awfully confused. Let me get you up to speed on what's been happening. Firstly, I'm Mildred. You brought me forth two days ago." "Mildred!" I thought. "You... I... What happened?" "You had apparently fallen off the smokestack. I sensed you there, so I came. Your soul and body were bound together by a safety spell." "A what?" "A safety spell. You see, since I can perform advanced healing magicks, I can bring you back from many injuries which would otherwise be instantly fatal. The safety spell, which was cast on you as soon as you imprinted the cork, serves to freeze body and soul after the injury--keeping you alive, though in the barest way." -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----