|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- TO VIXENWAY--CUP 1--"VINEYARD" --------  ||  Severe Repair  ||  To Vixenway  ||  -------> (Cup SRtv001, Created v2 (6/7/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = Fluffy Netherfuck stopped her motorcycle and looked around. Somewhere in the outskirts of Boltpike. Light snow flurries danced all around. A vast dusk plain stretched, dark forests and mountains in the distance, a good cold fresh smell in the air. She got off the bike and took off her dull silver helmet, cradling it in her left arm. Yeah, this was the place. Maybe. She was so old--there wasn't near enough room for all the memories she must have accumulated since the beginning of time. After making love with Tanner Loblolly for a month-and-a-half in the peculiar lather, she just had to get away from him--away from The Supbam Hotel, away from Agoopish. Here she found a place where no one else was around. A wild, unknown place. She embraced the promise of solitude. The promise of rest, the promise of calm. Her sexual exploration of Tanner had been extensive and certainly out-of-bounds. She wondered how he was handling the emotional aftermath of the experience. They were inside and outside of each other so massively. But it was what she saw, deep within him, it was what she felt, impossibly intertwined and buried in him--it was this that drove her to solitude more than anything else. In the vision she lazily received, there was a boy in the back seat of a car, riding down a highway, heading south, pen in hand, pen to paper. It could have been Tanner, but she couldn't be sure. But she saw next, Tanner as a sketch, as an incomplete creature. As a patchwork. This scared her. When she first met him, he had questioned her origins. She told him about her memory--of how parts of it go to sleep every so often. How she only had 315 years of memory online right now. Of how it wasn't a problem, but he implied that it was. In him, though, she saw strange origins--and maybe an envy. An envy of her huge age. And she saw more things in him. A whole scene, a whole vista, a whole life of Tanner as some sort of cat god--and even a name--Payjaych. And even another name--a name she had to dig for, to strive for, to challenge for. Kat X. She saw that Tanner feared this name--was it his true name? Was it the secret of his origin? She saw confusion. Tanner as Payjaych as iconoclast in pantheon, getting banished and imprisoned to Earth, to Thatterine College. Then she could see it--how his past was swallowed up--how he became Tanner Loblolly for real, how he lost his past. Then she saw the boy from the car, older now, wandering a lovely city, with a friend, an Asian friend. Little floating seedlets all around, the boy looked at his friend and said "I love Alison." And she wondered. What did it all mean? What sort of creature was Tanner, really? Yeah, the whole issue of her past. She knew what Tanner was driving at--that her assumptions of what happened farther back than 315 years were wrong--that there was some intricate masquerade gong on. There were rumors--she caught glimpses and flashes of them between her exit peculiar lather and her enter solitude. Things about Daptin Gone and Cursive Caxopy and the discovery of new universes. About Daptin Gone having created his own world. About the deepest secrets of Avert. But she didn't hang around. She didn't get the full story. And she really didn't care. Putting her helmet back on, Fluffy remounted her bike, revved it up and continued down that nowhere highway. Getting here was tricky--she caused a little commotion driving her motorcycle through a department store, down into its basement, and even farther down, into the catacombs below. Deep down there, she emerged at the top of a crazy leaning tower full of art, and she roared down the spiral stairway within, and burst into the queer little town all around. A few bewildered denizens eyed her, but she ignored them. It was onward, onward onward. Into a vineyard, into one aisle, reaching a certain great speed, and the grapes melt away, leaving--this. She forgot how she got back the last time she did this, but she felt she'd know the way when she saw it. -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----