Showing posts with label scifi. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scifi. Show all posts

Sunday, March 20, 2016

Vestigial Surreality: 15: The Little Girl

The Sunday SciFi Fantasy Serial, Free Online Fiction, Mystery, Ancestor Simulation, Digital World, Data is Data
Part 2: Curiouser and Curiouser
episode FIFTEEN
01 02 03 04 05 06 07
08 09 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
29 30 31 32 33 34 35
36 37 38 39 40 41 42
43 44 45 46 47 48 49


The Little Girl.

The little girl strolls along the street, stopping before windows, cupping her hands around her eyes and leaning against the glass storefronts. Occasionally, she checks the small pink watch on her wrist, and she smiles. A woman passing her, in a bright sunny dress, all expanded skirt and tight crenellated waist, puffed sleeves and high collar, smiles at the little girl, and pauses.
“Where are your parents, Dear?” the woman asks, pleasantly.
“Oh, you know, Dada is Dada,” the little girl says, giggling.
The woman smiles at her, and then tilts her head slightly, beginning to frown. She is about to say something else when the little girl skips away, trailing a white-gloved hand along the buildings, her fingers slipping in and out over the red bricks and green-blue grout. The woman follows the charming little girl, but only with her gaze, and her frown upends into a smile, as she shakes her head and continues the other way, the little girl slipping from her mind, a playful foal. The woman smiles at a very handsome man, who tips his fedora hat and grins. The woman turns to follow the man with a wistful glance, and she touches the large mound of curls at her head, wishing she had spritzed herself with Fer de Lance instead of Moonglow before leaving her cottage.
The little girl skips across the sidewalk rectangles, always careful to miss the cracks between the slabs of concrete, to the corner lift and waits for the blue doors to rise and then slide apart. She puts her head far back, watching for the lift, and sees it very high above, a dark smudge in the sky. Her very blonde hair dangles prettily down her back, in cascades of golden curls. She checks her pink watch and smiles. Glancing down the street, she notices a big Irish cop strolling in his crisp navy blue greatcoat, brass buttons glinting in the sunlight, swinging his nightstick from a sausage-thick finger. The beefy red-faced man is whistling merrily, and the girl catches the tune, Buffalo Girls.
“Aaaaaaand,” the little girl sings along, “daaaaance by the light of the moooooon!”
“Wonderful singing voice,” the very handsome man says, approaching and stopping near the little girl. He lifts his dark blue fedora to the little girl, nodding courtly, and then places his hands into the pockets of baggy suit pants.
“Thank you,” the little girl says, and smiles up at the very handsome man.
“Hey,” he says, “would you like to play a game?”
“Sure,” the little girl replies, grinning, because she adores games.
“Why don’t we pretend that I’m your daddy?” the very handsome man says, eyes twinkling. He rocks back and forth on his dark two-tone shoes. The little girl notices how tightly the shoes are laced, and wonders how the very handsome man is able to pull the thick black laces so tightly.
“This fine policeman strolling toward us is a very good friend of mine,” the very handsome man says, nodding in the direction of the whistling officer. “Let’s tell him that I’m taking you on an adventure, and that I’m going to buy you real ice cream on the platform above.”
“Oh, I have money,” the little girl says, showing the man the little clasp purse on her wrist. She is very proud of the pink leather purse, and inside the purse she has two whole dollars, one a folded green bill, and the remainder in a variety of coins; two dimes, three nickels, five pennies, and two quarters.
“Your money is no good here,” the very handsome man laughs, “in this fine establishment, everything is on the house, for a princess like you. You pick whatever you like from the menu, and I’m buying. Nothing is too good for my little girl.”
“Oh, I’m not a princess,” the little girl giggles. “I like to pretend sometimes, but I know I’m not. The Shaannii assures me that I had best focus on the facts; with the Shaannii, it is always the facts, nothing but the facts.”
“Well, to me,” the very handsome man chuckles, “your proud Daddy, you are the most wonderful princess to ever don glass slippers!”
The little girl frowns. She does not think that glass slippers sound very comfortable, but she understands his reference. Cinderella lost a slipper running down the steps at midnight. She glances down at her own pink sandals, and wishes for heels, but she is still too young to be wearing heels, at least that is what the Shaannii says. But the very handsome man using the phrase don glass slippers—such an old-fashioned expression—perhaps this friendly man should not be trusted, not quite completely, despite being so very handsome. Handsome is as handsome does. The little girl often imagines having a father, and she enjoys imagining him looking much like this very handsome man. For now, she will continue his little game. But she is watching him.
A low beeping tone sounds, and the blue walls of the lift cube rise from the concrete, and the lift drops like a rock from the sky, producing a loud whistling noise.
“Top of the mornin’,” says the Irish policeman, nearing the lift cube, pushing his nightstick into the broad belt at his waist. “And how is our young lady, my pretty little Buffalo gal?”
The little girl giggles, understanding that the policeman is not calling her a girl from Buffalo, a city of Old New York, but is merely referring to the lyrics of the song he has been whistling. She is charmed by the red-faced man, who is smiling at her with twinkling blue eyes, and she returns his smile, and for some reason, she feels like taking his big hand, but it is her “play daddy” that takes her hand.
“My little lady requires ice cream in the sky, and what can a father do but give his only daughter exactly what she wants?” the very handsome man says, taking a step toward the blue lift cube.
“Oh and fine, and what’s your favorite flavor?” the policeman inquires of the little girl, crouching down, his elbow blocking the very handsome man. “Meself, I loves the Rocky Road.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had ice cream before,” the little girl says, “so I don’t have a favorite flavor, not yet, but honestly, Rocky Road doesn’t sound too pleasant, it sounds rather...earthy.”
The policeman guffaws loudly. “Oh, but it is not the sound, no, but the taste of Rocky Road; why you have marshmallows, and chunks of chocolate, and nuts, that’s the thing of it, it’s the taste,” the policeman says. “The chocolate will provide all the acne you could ever wish for! Well beyond puberty, that it will!”
The little girl, smiling at the policeman, really likes him, she likes his white hair, his crinkled blue eyes, and his big red nose, as well as his big and gruff voice, and she says, “Then it is Rocky Road for me. Marshmallows sound nice. And the chocolate, of course. But I don’t know about the acne.”
“Oh, you won’t have to worry about the acne, not for about seven or so years, I would think. And what about you, my good man? Is it Rocky Road for you, too, then?” the policeman says, pushing himself upright with a grunt, smiling at the very handsome man.
The little girl looks from the policeman to the very handsome man and back again, noticing that the policeman’s eyes are not crinkling even though he is still smiling.
“I’m more of a sherbet man, myself,” the very handsome man says.
“Sherbet!” the policeman snorts. “What is it then? Is it ice cream, or is it yogurt? Hard to trust a treat that can’t make up its own mind. A wee bit Frenchy, I think.”
The little girl adores the policeman’s lilting accent, and she giggles.
“Going on a wee adventure with your...Daddy, Darlin’?” the policeman says, not looking away from the very handsome man, and his smile seems to fade.
The little girl does not pretend to understand all the dynamics of the interchange, but she knows the lift will depart soon.
“Oh yes, my Daddy is taking me on an adventure, and he is going to buy me ice cream on the platform.”
“We have to hurry,” the very handsome man says, dodging about the policeman, “come along, Sweetheart.”
They enter the blue cube and the doors swish shut just behind them. Turning her head, the little girl catches a final glimpse of the big Irish policeman, and sees that he is talking into something in his hand.
“Wasn’t that fun?” the very handsome man says as the lift gives a tiny jolt, rocketing into the sky.
“Yes, it was lots of fun,” the little girl says, watching through the clear cube as the city grows tiny beneath their feet. “I enjoyed the whole interchange, oh so much. And I liked the Irish policeman, he was wonderful.” She imagines she can see the Irish policeman, strolling below them, twirling his baton, his white hair glimmering in the sunlight. She imagines she can see the smiling woman with the curly hair.
“Quite an adventure,” the very handsome man says.
“This gives me a very odd feeling,” the little girl says, “my tummy is funny.”
“Don’t be afraid,” the very handsome man says, giving her hand a comforting squeeze.
“Oh, no, but I’m not afraid, I understand how the lift works, but I’ve never ridden it before, and seeing the city get small makes me wonder if I’m getting big.”
“You are a very strange little girl,” the very handsome man says.
“I hope I’m not strange,” the little girl says. Looking up, she watches as the platform appears far above, seeming to grow larger and larger, looking like a steel island in the sky. She glances at her pink wristwatch. “Right on time!”
“Yes,” the very handsome man chuckles, “right on time!”
The lift fits perfectly into a cube shape at the bottom of the platform, and almost immediately the doors slide open. They walk into a busy food court where almost every kind of food is distributed by smiling attendants in a ring of clean outlets.
“What’s your name, Sweetheart?” the very handsome man says, leading the girl toward the ice cream parlor.
“My name is Manda. What is your name?” the little girl says.
“Amanda. Nice to meet you, Amanda. My name is...Charlie. But you call me Daddy, for the adventure, okay?”
“Manda,” the little girl corrects him, “and your name is Charlie, but Daddy, for the adventure.”
“Fine, Amanda. Daddy. We got that straight. Let’s keep it straight, okay.”
She frowns and checks her pink wristwatch. She is still right on time.
Only one person is in line before them and the very handsome man waves his hand before the menu, causing the projected menu to scroll through hundreds of flavors.
“So, what is it, Rocky Road, as our flat-footed friend suggests, or something more...exotic?”
The little girl scans the flashing menu, oh so many delicious-sounding flavors.
“What about your sherbet?” the little girl says.
“We can eat from the same cone,” the very handsome man says, squeezing her hand.
She winces, as he has compressed her fingers, too hard.
“Unsanitary,” the little girl says. “Germs. No, I think I will go ahead and try Rocky Road, as planned.”
The very handsome man snorts. “As planned. Fine. Rocky Road, it is.”
The person in front of them departs, hefting a crystal glass of foamy beige something, and the smiling attendant turns to them and says: “Welcome to A Million Plus One Flavors, what can I get for you two happy people?”
The girl likes the blue glassiness of the attendant, and she likes how you can just see through the young man, who is obviously represented by a happy, nondescript avatar. She understands that the real worker is probably somewhere far below, wearing a headset while playing games at a home terminal, and probably looks completely different from this generic representation.
“Two scoops of Rocky Road, the real stuff, in a waffle cone, and one avocado sherbet, on a stick,” the very handsome says.
“Ten credits, please,” the attendant says, almost immediately.
“Ten credits for ice cream, the shame of it,” the very handsome man says, finally releasing the little girl’s hand to retrieve a bulging billfold from a pocket within his suit coat.
“Avocado? Isn’t that a strange flavor for sherbet?” the little girl wonders.
“There’s nothing strange about it,” the very handsome man snaps. Then he smiles. “Avocado is a fruit, you know, just like tomato, or mango, or strawberries.”
“Technically,” the little girl says, “strawberries are not berries.”
“Had to get the know-it-all,” the very handsome man mutters, not acknowledging the little girl.
The little girl watches as he flips through a variety of cards; as the cards flick by she registers the various names, James Thuggard, Ronald Beasley, Thomas Finches, until he comes to Charles Weingart, which he selects and waves over the blue disk on the counter, then promptly returns the card to his wallet and tucks it back into his jacket. The disk pings quietly and the door near the disk swooshes open, the order displayed on crystal pedestals.
The little girl giggles, because the cone with the bulging ice cream looks wonderful.
The very handsome man takes the order and bows courtly to the little girl, offering her the cone.
“Your Ladyship,” he says, bowing as if presenting a crown to a princess.
The little girl seizes the cone and immediately begins to lick the ice cream. Oh, but the policeman was correct, this Rocky Road is wonderful, chocolatey, and there are the marshmallows, jutting out of the ice cream, and chunks of chocolate.
“What, no thank you?” the handsome man says in mock outrage.
“Thank you, so much, it’s wonderful,” the little girl says.
“Shall we take our treats up to the observation deck, M’Lady Amanda?” the very handsome man says, taking her hand and leading her away from the food court. He leads her toward the small cube lift.
“Let’s take the crystal escalator,” the little girl says. “But you know, I have told you twice, my name is Manda, not Uh-manda.”
The man sighs but adjusts their course. He allows her to step onto the first crystal step, but does not release his hold on her hand. He steps up close behind her. The escalator lifts them, cutting through the floor of the food court. It is as if they are levitating, rising through the air.
They pass through three floors where people both get on and off the escalator, there are shopping booths, lounges, as well as departure platforms for various destinations, there is taxi traffic, and hotel rooms for rent, and soon they rise into a magnificent sky, for the moment free of clouds so that the land is visible, spread out like a patchwork quilt beneath them.
“Isn’t this lovely?” the very handsome man says, leading the little girl to the wall of the crystal cube.
In bad weather, or very windy conditions, the top of the crystal cube seals, making the observation deck a sort of terrarium in the sky, but on a nice day like this, the ten-foot walls end in open sky.
“Someone who fell from this height,” the very handsome man says, thoughtfully, “well, there just wouldn’t be much left, would there?”
“That’s why the walls are so high,” the little girl says, “to keep people from falling.”
“Or jumping,” the very handsome man says. “But people do find a way, don’t they?”
“They do?” the little girl says.
“Oh yes, all the time,” the very handsome man says. “Some people jump, because they are just not happy in this world. And others are thrown because they make people unhappy.”
“What’s up with people?” the little girl says, thoughtfully, staring at the world through the crystal walls.
“What’s down with people?” the very handsome man says, chuckling.
The little girl does not reply, but stares out at the great distances, enjoying her ice cream. She enjoys working the marshmallows and nuts with her teeth, slowly extracting the bits. Rocky Road is her favorite ice cream flavor, she decides.
“Let’s sit down over here,” the very handsome man says, drawing the girl to a corner bench made of crystal. “Looks like we have the whole deck to ourselves. Isn’t this cozy?”
“I think about people, all the time,” the little girl says. “I can’t really make up my mind about them. They should be happy, and yet most people are not happy.”
“We’re happy,” the very handsome man says, “you and I, me and you, we and us. That’s what matters. You like the ice cream, and I like you.”
“Where’s your sherbet?” the little girl says.
“Guess I wasn’t very hungry,” the very handsome man says, “for sherbet.”
“Well, you’re not getting any of my Rocky Road,” the little girl says, continuing to lick her ice cream.
“That’s not very nice of you,” the very handsome man says.
“I already explained about the germs,” the little girl says, lowering her eyebrows.
“The germs, yes,” the man says. “But you know, married people don’t worry so much about germs, married people, and families, fathers and daughters?”
“You realize we are not actually related,” the little girl says, “that was all for the adventure.”
“The adventure’s not over, is it?” the man says, placing an arm about the girl’s shoulders. “You are still my princess, and I am still your Daddy. Don’t you love your Daddy?”
The little girl glances at him. Then she really looks at him. Something has changed. His nostrils are twitching, and his pupils are very large, and one side of his mouth is twitching. He seems to be breathing much louder.
“Are you feeling well?” she says.
“Feel great,” he says, patting her shoulder, “I just so enjoy spending time with you, my daughter. Why don’t you sit on my lap?”
“That won’t be necessary,” she says, turning her gaze to her ice cream, but not licking it.
“Now come on,” he says, sweeping an arm beneath her thighs, lifting her, “you have your ice cream, you love it. There’s nothing wrong with a father enjoying a little girl on his lap.”
“But you’re not really my father,” she says, squirming to get off his lap.
“Stop. It.”
She went still. He had a hand clamped on the back of her neck. It hurt.
“See those walls,” the man said, speaking quickly, “they’re not really that tall. A tall man, like me, can easily throw something over the top. Just sit still.”
He smoothed a hand over her skirt, straightening the pink folds.
“You are hurting my neck,” the little girl said.
“No, I’m not. You, moving, that’s what’s hurting your neck, little girl,” the man said. He placed his hat beside them on the bench. “Just sit still.”
“I think that perhaps you are not really a nice man,” the little girl said, sitting very still, but he did not relinquish the grip on the back of her neck.
“You have no idea,” he said, rubbing his cheek down alongside her face. “Don’t you know that little girls are not supposed to go out alone?”
He sounded like a character in a fairytale. The Big Bad Wolf.
“Yes, I know that,” the little girl said, tears filling her eyes. “I was being naughty. I snuck away.”
“And now they wonder where you could have gone,” the man whispered. “They will know. Soon enough. After.”
“You are a bad man,” she said.
“That’s what they say,” he answered, and he began to move a hand down her leg to the edge of her skirt.
“Stop,” she said, and he stopped. She climbed off his lap and looked at him. He sat frozen, one hand up as if gripping her neck, the other arm stretched out, the hand curled back, as if seeking.
“What’s happening?” the man said, but his speech was garbled, as if he could not fully move his lips and tongue.
“Please, do not speak,” the little girl said. She closed her eyes and they flicked about, moving beneath the lids, as if she were dreaming. “The Shaannii says there is no hope for someone like you. What you are doing, you have done, and will do again. You have done terrible things. And you will do terrible things.”
“Sorry,” the man whimpered, completely still, tears leaking out of his eyes.
“I am sorry,” the little girl said, opening her eyes. “What you have done to others, so let it be done to you, so let it be written, so let it be done.”
The man, not looking very handsome, slammed against the crystal wall of the observation deck, his legs sticking straight out, his eyes bulging in horror, as he slowly slid with his back against the crystal wall, up, up, and he began to scream, but he kept moving, as if lifted by an unseen escalator, up and up until he reached the top of the wall, and then he went over, and now screamed with all his being as he fell. She heard him screaming for a long time, until she could not hear the screams any longer. But the little girl was certain he would scream until the very end, in about ten seconds.
She looked sadly at the man’s dark blue fedora hat. It matched his suit so well. She turned and walked across the observation deck as people began appearing, rushing from lifts and stairwells and the escalator, rushing, rushing to see what might yet be seen, pressing their hands against the crystal walls. The little girl noticed that the ceiling had closed and now the observation deck was a sealed terrarium in the sky, and all the people were the little animals in the crystal box. Yes, the people were much more like animals than people.
The little girl walked around the circular restaurant to the far side of the observation deck, and walked directly to the lone woman who stood at the prow of the platform, looking out at the approaching clouds.
“Right on time,” the little girl said, checking her pink wristwatch.
“Hello,” the young woman said, turning from her view, smiling at the little girl, but wiping at her eyes. It seemed that she had been crying, just moments before.
“I’m Manda,” the little girl said.
The young woman paused, and then said, softly, “I’m Sandy,” and she ceremoniously shook the little girl’s proffered hand.

The Sunday SciFi Serial, Mystery, Fantasy, Techno Thriller, Cyberpunk

Wolf remained very still, staring up, holding his black fighting stick in both hands, parallel to the ground. The great serpent had just threatened to devour him.
The serpent’s great head drew very close. It came down slowly, until its nose was inches away from his face. Only moments after their life-and-death struggle, and now here it was, the great serpent threatened to go back on its word and eat him, after everything, after all their oaths of friendship.
“Do you think I’m joking?” the serpent hissed.
“You do have a strange sense of humor,” Wolf said.
“You should see your face,” the serpent hissed, and released a bellow of air in what must pass for laughter. “Come on, admit it, Wolf, you were worried.”
“Maybe...concerned,” Wolf said, allowing himself a grin. Still, his hands did not shift on the black shillelagh.
“Concerned,” the serpent hissed. “I’m surprised you did not soil yourself.”
“I actually might have done that earlier, during our wrestling match,” Wolf said.
“No, I do not think so,” the serpent hissed. “You are a stern man, strong and brave. I could not depart, not yet, because I wanted to give you one last gift.”
Wolf lifted his eyebrows.
The serpent opened its great jaws, producing its monstrous fangs, longer than his arms. On each fang was what appeared to be a ring of leather.
Wolf snapped his black stick up under his arm and reached for one of the leather strips. With a few tugs he was able to pull down one of the leather bands, and he carefully removed it without touching the tip of the fang, and without pause he did the same to the other band.
He glanced at the two bands. They were gloves, fingerless gloves. Wolf chuckled. The gloves appeared to be MMA gloves. He pulled them on over his fingers. They came down well below his wrists, fitting perfectly like gauntlets, and were made of the same scaly leather as the breeches and boots.
“I was not joking, however, about how delicious you appear to me,” the serpent hissed.
“Thank you,” Wolf said, choosing to interpret that as a compliment, flexing his fists in his new gloves. Big flexing horns covered all his knuckles. These gloves would not only protect his hands, but deliver devastating damage at any blow, and aside from all that, they just felt cool.
“Fare thee well, Pugilist Wolf,” the serpent hissed, and then it swung its hooded and horned head away and was off moving through the grasses, like a freight train seeming to take forever.
Wolf lifted his pack and opened the flap; he dug just a moment, extricating a bottle of wine.
“I could use a drink,” he said, prying the cork out of the bottle with his thumbs. He took a sip and nodded his head. Not bad, not bad at all. He took a longer swig, and then replaced the cork. He belched. He slipped the bottle back into the pack and snatched the hooded traveling cloak from the ground.
He set out walking downhill, and after a few moments, he noticed the growing chill. Evening seemed to be coming on. He slipped into his cloak and pulled the hood up over his head. In all the recent excitement, his cigar had gone out. He squeezed the tip and it once again burst into flame. He sucked the cigar until it billowed smoke, and then set out walking again, slipping the pack onto one shoulder, prodding the ground before him with his black walking stick. All in all, he didn’t feel bad. Truthfully, he felt rather excited. He chuckled. Ah come on, whom was he kidding, this was like being a kid again, on Christmas morning. He wanted to scream!
He wouldn’t be going back to that job. He wouldn’t be worrying about his bills, or his credit debt. Forget GMOs, high fructose corn syrup, car insurance, diet sodas with zero calories, lying media, flu shots, and Wi-Fi hotspots. You can keep your traffic tickets, political ads, popup adware, and online pornography. No, this was a world of vivid colors, and giant serpents, and he was alive; he had survived the crashing Armageddon of one world, and he felt more than equipped to handle anything, and so he might as well push forward and discover what this new world had to offer.
The serpent had mentioned something about a human dwelling below, and that’s what he set off for, enjoying his fantasy Cuban cigar and the pleasant evening stroll. He noticed a moon peeking over the edge of the tall mountains on his left. It looked huge, perhaps twice the size of the normal moon he was used to seeing. As he strolled, puffing on his cigar, he twirled the black shillelagh, and man, but that felt good, something completely normal to his hand, as if it were part of him. It felt too light for such a strong piece of wood, and it felt alive.
No, at least for the time being, Stacey and his world and all his problems were gone. In this new place, for however long he should be alive, in the now he was Wolf. He picked up his pace into a loping jog, hefting his stick in his left hand, his right hand steadying the pack above his hip. He glanced at the moon again, which was almost free of the mountain range, and it was truly an awesome spectacle, bloated and glowing a dim blue. Something caught his eyes from over on the right side of the far valley where a more rugged set of peaks rose high in the air, and he blinked, for it appeared to be another moon, this one tinged with green, and perhaps a eighth the size of the blue moon (probably half or less the size of his moon, in that destroyed world), and it was moving in the opposite direction; he supposed, some time tonight the two moons would meet in the sky, and one would eclipse the other. Two moons? Wasn’t that pressing things a little too far? Still, he had to remember, there were worlds with more than one moon, why shouldn’t this be one?
He loped a little faster as full night came on. For now, it was enough to head downhill. But even with two moons in the sky, he doubted he would be able to find his way safely in the dark. He gave himself another half hour to find the human dwelling. If he didn’t find the place, he’d have to make camp out here, and hopefully there were sufficient supplies inside his pack, as he had not really explored its contents as yet.
A sound above the breeze brought him to an abrupt halt. There was no misinterpreting that song of the night, it was a very loud wolf howl, and it carried on long and loud, sounding like the wind singing. The howl began low and mournful, and then rose piercing and sad, yet very beautiful. Wolf had never actually heard a real wolf howl, in the real world (or what passed for it). He had only heard the song of the wild in movies. But out here, in the wild, the song brought gooseflesh to his neck and shoulders, and he actually felt his scalp rise up as if in terror. But he felt no fear, none whatsoever.
He threw back his own head and howled into the night, putting all of himself into that howl, ripping free every pain and worry of the last couple of days, and he howled with his soul, tears leaking from his eyes, offering up the torment of losing a world, offering up the terror of birth into a new world. Then, spent, he stood, listening, puffing on his cigar.
If he expected the wolf to answer him, he was disappointed, because all was silent, save for the chorus of crickets that came alive, first like a string quartet, and then like a full symphony. But Wolf’s disappointment was only short lived, because a great shape emerged through the trees and loped across the meadows. It was the largest dog-like beast he had ever hoped to see, far larger than a Great Dane or St. Bernard.
It was a wolf, a white wolf, perhaps the size of a pony. And it was loping directly toward him.
Wolf stood with his black shillelagh in his left hand, waiting, until the great wolf came and sat on its haunches, ten feet away.
“Don’t worry,” it said, in a deep, friendly voice. “I’m not another test. Boreallis sent me. I am to be your guide, and protector. And I hope, ultimately, to be your friend.”
“I am Wolf,” Wolf the man said.
“I know. I am Wolf, as well,” Wolf the wolf said. “I enjoyed your howl.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed your howl, as well,” Wolf the man said.
“Grab onto my ruff, and run alongside me, and I will guide your feet to safe places of treading,” Wolf the wolf said.
And they ran, into the night, into the wild, Wolf and Wolf.




Sunday, February 28, 2016

Vestigial Surreality: 12: Flight

The Sunday SciFi Fantasy Serial, Free Online Fiction, Mystery, Ancestor Simulation, Digital World, Data is Data
episode TWELVE
01 02 03 04 05 06 07
08 09 10 11 12 13 14
15 16 17 18 19 20 21
22 23 24 25 26 27 28
29 30 31 32 33 34 35
36 37 38 39 40 41 42
43 44 45 46 47 48 49
Spoken-Word Audio - VS
Visit the Vestigial Surreality WIKI
Sunday SciFi Fantasy Serial
by Douglas Christian Larsen

Flight.

Okay, Jack thought, so this probably isn’t heaven. It’s funny though, because after the initial blast of terror, and when you begin to deal with something—no matter how horrible it is—you pretty much can get used to just about anything, even if that anything involves a hundred-foot long snake that wants to eat you. Even when that snake is just behind you, and is now gaining on you.
Jack had toned down is opening mad dash, because even in this air, with these wonderful new lungs, and all the rippling runner’s muscles functioning perfectly up and down his legs, he could never have made it to the treeline before the snake got him. He glanced back, and yep, it was still there, about fifty feet back, its head doing a very scary-fast metronome tick tock.
He wasn’t going to make it. Jack tended to be an optimist, even at the worst times, but perky positive thoughts were never going to get him to that treeline that was now an impossibly far hundred yards away. True, he had halved the distance. And despite the terror of it all, Jack couldn’t help but glory in the flash and flex of his perfect runner’s body. He had just completed the fastest hundred-yard dash he could have ever hoped to run. But facts were facts, and that snake was slithering faster than he was running, and it had not slowed to match his decrease in speed even as he attempted to pace himself.
Where were the others? Jack spared only a truncated thought of concern for Stacey, Joshua, and Michael. He couldn’t worry much about them, at least not right now, because his world was all about fight or flight, and he knew he couldn’t fight the thing gaining on him, and as he knew when he started this race, he probably couldn’t beat it with speed. And where was the ghost girl, Sandy? He had felt her presence his entire life, but he certainly didn’t feel her now.
It was up to him. Jack needed to deal with this monstrous anaconda, and he figured he would need to beat it with his brain, because he had to be smarter than a snake, didn’t he?
Abruptly Jack darted to the right, pelting full out. He made himself breathe, in through his nose—he actually snorted loudly, like a horse—and out loudly through his mouth, expelling the air from his lungs in great bursts. Then he stopped, digging his naked heels into the grasses and soil beneath, and thank God he didn’t slide through the grass, and with a massive leap he sent his body backward, and in a surreal moment of clarity, Jack observed the snake’s head striking, right in front of his body, and the moment seemed stretched and forever, as at least twenty feet of the monster’s head and body passed before him in a muscular punch, and Jack turned and dashed along its body, and he had sped along fifty feet of its great body, which seemed about as tall as his own waist, and as soon as he noticed the body begin to decrease in speed, he placed a hand on its scales—he dimly perceived the beautiful scales, as large as his hand, in alternating diamonds of glowing turquoise and dark green—and vaulted over its body to the other side.
Jack had seen a snake eat a mouse, in science class in the fourth grade, and even though that snake had only been about eighteen inches long, he had found the spectacle awful, and he had many nightmares about it even into the fifth grade. Because that mouse had known, and even though it was faster than the snake, it had still gone down, to one strike of the snake’s fangs, and then a too-fast winding up of the coils of its body. The mouth bit and the body seized the mouse in an abrupt winding down of tightening bands, and then the snake had constricted, and only one of the mouse’s little feet had protruded from the big muscled fist of coils. The mouse had kicked for a few seconds as the snake visibly constricted upon the little mouse body.
And now Jack was only moments away from being that mouse.
Jack pretended to flee the snake, then he stopped and vaulted back over to the other side of its body, and the world seemed to fly up about him, the ground quaking, and there above him twenty feet in the air were massive coils the size of tractor tires. And he dashed back down along the snake’s body, throwing himself down under a coiling sweep of deadly muscled cable, and now the body seemed to be everywhere, undulating and sweeping, coiling and writhing. He leaped over another part of its body, jerked to the side, and as he began to pelt out running again he more felt than saw the head come past him again in a surreal moment of slow-motion threat. It had gone for the kill, again, and just barely missed him.
He found himself running parallel with the forest on his left. He registered the great pile of coils on his right, and it was loud, that great body flexing and bending, but Jack figured it would take the snake some time to get all that bulk going again, and he spared a glance over his shoulder, and it was there, the mean-looking face of the snake with its great alien orbs with what looked like horns above its eyes.
Jack cried out with a burst of speed, hooking away from the still coiling snake (there were great loops up in the air possibly fifty feet above him) and he dashed back toward the forest. He would do a fifty-yard dash without looking back—stop looking back, you have to stop looking over your shoulder, he had to be vigilant and focus on the distant trees that didn’t look so far away now—he looked back, oh shit, and the face was coming, too fast, off the ground, its mouth opening, and Jack leaped to the left and dimly registered the head striking past him, just missing—he could have slapped it as it passed it was so close—and Jack ran.
He heard the grass rustling loudly behind him as if a truck were careening to run him over and through the corner of his eye he caught sight of a great undulation of coil coming up on his left, and he knew the head was close on his right and his heart surged as he realized he was still within the range of its great coils and he prepared himself and when he felt the body just there on his left he jumped and just cleared the body but it bucked up and knocked him up into the air and dimly he realized he was spinning through the air, heels over head, and then he was tumbling through the grass with no idea of where the snake’s head was but he was sure this wasn’t good, it had him now, there was no way he was going to get away.
He rolled in the grass and pushed himself to his feet and started running. Instinctively he ducked and jagged to the right, and he felt it pass him again. How many times had it struck at him already? He had lost count, but he wasn’t dead yet, he could still run, and that he did.
His head spinning, he saw he was running toward an expanse in the grasses with no treeline in sight, oh great, he was running in circles, but there just before him was what looked to be the snake’s tail rearing up from the grasses and he grunted and just managed to duck under the tail, but it struck him in passing, and it hurt, it hurt, the scales scratched his naked back and almost propelled him back into the ground. He abruptly changed direction and ran in a new direction, catching sight of the trees and hey, they looked closer!
A great hissing noise erupted just behind him, sounding like helicopter blades just above and behind him and Jack nearly froze, it was such a terrifying burst of sound. The snake was either very angry or it was using its volume as a tool, to paralyze him, but Jack was not the kind of mouse to freeze in place when terrified, no he was the kind of mouse that ran as fast as its little white mouse legs could carry him.
Jack, running, heard a terrible scream, and only after a moment realized that the scream issued from his own mouth, and he hoped no one heard the scream, because he would die of embarrassment before the snake ever caught him. With a new burst of speed he ran full-out for the trees before him, oh he might make it, come on, he sent thoughts of encouragement into his legs, please, faster, run, faster!
The speeding truck behind him seemed closer now, blasting its air horn, and Jack wished it was something as innocuous as a speeding semi-truck about to run him down, because the animal quality was there in the hissing, it was a being, and that made it more terrible than imminent death. All-surrounding terror was the worst thing, and Jack had never experienced true terror, not even close. His was a life of high school and running and computer games and thick novels, and that cute girl in his sociology class, Genevieve, and who in the world had ever run just before the fangs of a snake, regardless of its size. Modern man was not supposed to meet such things, not even in a zoo for exotic animals.
Jack squealed like a pig and threw his body to the right and again—again it struck at him, this close to the trees and it almost got him again! He could never keep this up, it had missed him so many times, the law of averages could not be bucked this many times.
There it was, stretched out ten feet before him, its mouth clenching down on air, and Jack placed his hand on its neck and jumped it again, it seemed like he had been doing this trick forever, that for years he had fled before this snake, jumping again and again over its body, and Jack realized it was pulling back, retracting into its own coils again, readying for its final and this time successful strike, and Jack stuck out his hand and grabbed what appeared to be a six-foot pine tree, and he whipped himself around it, not slowing at all, and he vaulted himself away from the tree into the forest, dodging about a tall tree trunk, and then forcing himself to zig and zag from tree to tree, that freaking snake, oh that flipping freaking snake, let it follow him in here!
Because he was in the trees and maybe the snake wouldn’t like the dark forest. It certainly wouldn’t be able to maneuver as well as Jack could manage. He glanced back. Oh, the snake seemed to be maneuvering just fine, because it was only ten feet back, erupting through the trees.
Damn it, Jack snarled, that just wasn’t fair, after his mad dash to the forest, and it now seemed the forest wouldn’t protect him any better than the tall grasses.
For the first time since this trauma had begun, Jack realized he was gasping for breath, and he was tired, he was flat-out pooped. This should be the moment when he could fling himself upon the dark loam of the forest floor, and laugh at his ordeal. But the ordeal wasn’t ready to let him go. There would be no laughing, not even of the maniacal kind.
Jack ran down corridors of trees, he dashed between trunks that were a hard fit for his body, he cut back around larger trees, and he managed to scan the overhead branches as he ran. He didn’t think climbing a tree would protect him from the snake, but he had to try something other than endless running because his heart was pounding throughout his body, he could feel it throbbing in his fingertips. He was slick with sweat, and kept trying to wipe the moisture out of his eyes with his forearms, which only succeeded in rubbing the sweat from his forearms into his eyes.
Branches crackled behind him, and he heard the vast snake breathing, loudly, the great thing was winded too, and Jack couldn’t run very fast any longer, not because his body was depleted, but because the closeness of the trees constrained him, and the noises behind him told him the snake was not as hampered as was he, and finally he leapt for a branch that seemed just out of his reach in a tall tree, and he caught it with his fingertips, thank God, and without pause he swung himself up like a gymnast and started climbing, hand over hand, climbing like a monkey, hardly testing branches with his feet as he propelled himself upward. Thankfully, his arms were in great shape, able to pull his bodyweight, which was much faster than trying to find good footholds.
The snake was just beneath the tree and it rose up high as a man, and then more, higher, it reared up majestically, taller and taller, not climbing the tree, but rearing up like a cobra before the tree. Jack kept his eye on it even as he scrambled higher, and higher, and within moments he was thirty feet up in the tree, on the other side of the trunk which he gauged to be about three feet around.
Jack paused, peeking around the trunk, the snake’s head was just there, watching him. He glanced down, not willing to take his gaze away from the snake’s face for more than a moment, and he saw its body drawing into a vast pile of coils at the base of the tree, my goodness, how big was the thing, anyway? If Jack stood on the ground in that pile of coils it would be far over his head. The ring of coils was fifteen feet across, at least, and ten feet above the ground. Jack glanced back at the snake’s head. It watched him. It was perfectly still, save for the expansion of its body as it breathed. Its head was just outside the ring of branches, extended thirty feet above the forest floor.
Jack glanced up. He could probably climb another thirty feet, but didn’t doubt that the snake would be able to reach him, even way up there. He looked back at the snake. It watched him.
“Come on already,” Jack said, feeling near tears. “Why don’t you just go away?”
The snake cocked its head. Jack readied himself. It was about to strike.
“You speak to me,” the snake breathed in a strangely high-pitched voice, sibilant and hissing.
Jack’s eyes grew huge. It was almost worse, that it talked. Come on, this was just too much. How much could he take before his brain short-circuited? He remembered the note, don’t be afraid, and almost snorted. Dumb old man, great advice.
“You dare speak to me, Little Mouse,” the snake hissed, “why do you run from me? I will admit, naked manchild, my Little Mouse, that you have impressed me, for no other has eluded me. None other has reached the green talls, nor the man-dwelling beneath the green lows.”
Great, Jack thought, there’s a man-dwelling, I ran the wrong way. Wouldn’t you know it?
“Can we call it…quits, then, good race and all that?” Jack said, pleading, his body now trembling, because listening to its high strange voice filled him with surreal fright.
“No we cannot call it quits, Little Mouse,” the snake said, its head drawing back, sneering (Jack readied himself to dodge behind the trunk, he felt it was close, the snake’s next strike, he sensed it was lulling him so that he would be standing still when its head darted in and its fangs plunged into his heaving chest). “You are my meat. It is written, Little Mouse, that the man who eats the sacred food shall be meat for the god.”
“I didn’t eat the sacred food,” Jack said.
“Liar,” the snake breathed. “You ate the fruit, I smell it in your sweat. You reek of my sacredness.”
Jack thought of the lumpy pear thing in his hand, biting it, its sweetness, its goodness. Stupid fruit. He hadn’t even been hungry. What was he thinking?
“Come on, couldn’t you post a sign or something,” he said, thinking about the thick branch about five feet above him. When the snake struck, he would dodge behind the trunk and in the same motion leap for that branch. “I wouldn’t have eaten it if I thought it was sacred food. I just ate about ten pancakes, I wasn’t even hungry!”
“You ate the sacred food of the gods, and now you are my meat, come, offer yourself to me, freely, and I will swallow you without my usual entertainment. You shall digest inside of me for thirty days, alive, conscious, a part of me. Come to me, Little Mouse.”
Jack felt a compulsion to do just that, step forward through the branches, and throw himself into the snake’s mouth, arms spread wide.
“Call him, the god, I’ll apologize. I want to talk to the god,” Jack said.
“Fool, you are talking to your god,” the snake said, and its throat expanded to either side, spreading itself out wider than a cobra hood, and it was beautiful, shimmering with rainbow flickers of twinkling light. It looked like wings spread from its neck fifteen feet on either side. He caught twinkles of indigo, deep colors, they were gorgeous, sparks of purple, flickers of crimson.
“Beautiful,” Jack breathed, the twinkling lights reminding him of Disneyland after dark, or the rich neighborhoods at Christmas, for the twinkles of light were actual illuminations, glowing in the dark forest. They were lights, not reflections. Great, the electric serpent.
“Yes, I am beautiful, and I am your god, and you will obey me,” the serpent said.
“You’re not my god,” Jack said, hardly thinking of what he said, but this monster might be huge, but it certainly was nothing he would ever consider worshipping.
The snake struck, brutally fast, like all predators in nature, one moment it was still, and the next its head was just before Jack and he barely managed to tuck behind the trunk of the tree, at the same instant leaping for that branch above him, but the snake’s passage struck the tree and jarred it violently, so that Jack’s left hand missed the branch, but his right hand caught on just by the fingertips, and he swung crazily, high above the forest, the snake’s head withdrawing beneath him. And twisting, Jack nearly fell, not doubting that the snake would pluck him out of the air before he ever came close to the ground.
Jack’s fingers lost purchase and he fell but slapped the branch with a second swipe of his left hand and he pulled himself upward, scrambling up, kicking his feet for momentum, doing the monkey thing again, crazedly pulling himself upward branch by branch, the strength of his muscular arms amazing, kicking his feet at the snake’s head just beneath him as it rose through the branches of the tree. His left foot slapped the snake in the eye and the beast—the god—withdrew back through the branches. Gasping and groaning, Jack peered down at the snake’s head, just ten feet beneath him. It could bite him, right now, at any moment, and Jack had nowhere to go. He felt a bolt of panic wash through him, sweeping upward from his genitals to punch his belly up into his heart.
Jack vomited, his gut clenching, body bending, and all his pancakes and coffee rushed out of him, the contents of the little packs of raspberry jelly that he smeared over his sourdough toast, gushing in a massive spew of acid and fluid, splashing on and over the snake’s face. Jack doubled over, falling onto the thick branch, and the impact drove a second gout of vomit from him.
The snake hissed, outraged, and withdrew from the deluge of vomit, blinking its eyes of the acid.
“Profaner, barbarian, stinking foul mouse!” the snake hissed, shaking its head violently, withdrawing again outside the ring of branches.
“Sorry about that,” Jack coughed, and then spouted again, his mouth a funnel, a literal fountain of bile.
“Never have I been so defiled,” the snake spat. The snake drew close again and seemed to sniff at him, but with a tongue that on its own was the size of a swollen boa constrictor. “But clever, Little Mouse, for the sacred food is purged. But do not think you have escaped me, for you are now my enemy. I swear it. I swear it.”
“Sorry, I’m sorry, no need to swear,” Jack pleaded, scrubbing his mouth with his arm, “just too much excitement for one day, plus I kind of overdid it at IHOP.”
“Do not call upon other gods, Little Mouse, they will not save you,” the snake hissed.
Jack blinked, peering through the branches at the snake who was risen again at his level. They must be forty feet up. He didn’t know what the snake was referring to, calling upon other gods, unless he meant IHOP, and although Jack loved their pancakes, he wouldn’t ever consider the place to be anything close to a church.
“I will find you, Little Mouse, but now you will not be my meat. You will be my…plaything.”
“Yeah, yeah, see you then, maybe we can have another race, slowpoke,” Jack said, never able to resist a bit of sarcasm. But even as he said it he felt he might have gone a tad too far.
The snake stared at him, hard, and then it was coiling away, slithering noisily through the trees, its body seeming to take forever even as fast as it moved. And finally, Jack was alone, in the dark forest, exhausted, utterly spent. He patted the tree trunk.
“Thanks, tree,” he breathed. He rubbed the trunk of tree, enjoying the rough texture of the bark. Then he felt something, an irregularity in the bark. His fingers traced along what felt like, yes, something that wasn’t a natural part of the tree, it was a carving in the bark, it was the letter…J.
He traced. J. And next, there was the letter A.
“No way,” he breathed, finding the next letter C, and the final K.
JACK.
He placed his palm over the letters carved up forty feet in the very tree he had chosen in his panicked rush. Out of all the dingy forests in the world, and I have to climb up this high to find my name carved right…here.
A blue flash of light enveloped him and he felt vertigo wash through him. He blinked, his ears popping, head spinning. He was no longer seated on the branch of the tree, forty feet up in the air.
He was sitting on a little bed, in a small circular room. On the bed next to him was a pile of clothing. He felt so dizzy. He glanced about the room, noticing the small fireplace against one wall, a small wooden door opposite, and a window with glass across from him. On the mantelpiece above the fireplace was a beautiful, intricately carved bow, with a quiver of arrows slung beneath it. And what looked like a silver dagger. He wanted to get off the bed and look out the window, but it was all too much.
Jack slumped over on the bed, huddled into a ball, and fell into a deep rush of blissful darkness.

Sunday SciFi Serial, Fantasy, The Matrix, The 13th Floor, William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, Tad Williams
  
Number Six pulled his bathrobe over his sweats, his fingers barely able to loop and cinch the broad terrycloth belt at his waist. Why was it so cold? He rummaged in the drawers beneath the chamber and found the extra blankets, snatched one out and pulled it over his shoulders, remembering how carefully Seven had tucked the blanket about him that day in the kitchenette. His teeth chattered and he clenched his jaws to cease the racket. Moaning, he moved around his chamber area over to that of Number Seven. Her chamber was closed, as expected, humming softly. He had distantly hoped she would be out and about, and that they might have a little chat.
“Suh-suh-Seven?” Number Six called, slapping his palms loudly on her chamber. Funny, he never noticed before, but their chambers were very much like coffins, big, fat coffins. He felt dizzy. Although the lighting was muted, as always, it still seemed too bright. He clenched his eyes and slapped the chamber a few more times, huddling in his blanket. He knocked on the metal surface of the chamber with his fist.
He knew there was a way to communicate with Number Seven through the nearby console, in fact he could contact her from inside his own chamber, but he needed to talk to her again, he needed to have a nice face-to-face sit-down with another person, and last time Number Seven had made him feel so much better. With months racked up in Voyages, he just felt he needed to sit with another real person, hear a voice—her voice.
Number Six slumped down and sat with his back against Number Seven’s chamber. He pulled the blanket about him and tried to remain calm, he tried to suppress the trembling that wracked his emaciated body. It was almost time.
He had followed the old man’s instructions, perfectly, to the letter. Old Ben had assured him that everything would be okay, that this plan would work, he would finally be able to save Varra, in High Vale, but here in RL he was hitting a crisis. It just didn’t feel real any longer, here, in this place, in the flesh. He must be losing his mind, because this felt like the simulation, and not a particularly good one.
If he managed to save Varra—and he would, he would, he just had to—with the promised help, he knew things would change, not only in High Vale, but here. Things were about to cross a threshold, and never be the same again. Perhaps they already had. He didn’t know if he could ever go back to classes, or a mundane job, or even just the plain old normalcy of sitting down to a meal with a group of people.
Number Six was afraid. He huddled down in Number Seven’s little alcove outside her chamber, and he actually drifted toward sleep. When was the last time he had actually slept? It had to be two months, at least, and in the compressed time of the chamber, it was actually as if he had been conscious for years, ever active, ever moving, never stopping, jumping from one interesting thing to another, one dynamic act after another. His teeth chattered and he placed his palm over his mouth to suppress the trembling, and he drifted for long moments, and then, quietly, with a sigh, he fell asleep, snoring almost immediately.

Sunday SciFi Serial, Fantasy, The Matrix, The 13th Floor, William Gibson, Neal Stephenson, Tad Williams

Seven sat cuddled on her couch, a fuzzy blanket drawn up about her, sipping her cup of coffee. Quiet Mozart played. She had chimes tinkling on the small balcony that was usually her dormer window, and crickets fiddled in the warm summer breeze. On the coffee table before her sat the small stack of books, Murakami’s 1Q84, Galouye’s Simulacron-3, and Goldman’s Control. She had just finished reading all of them—she didn’t like the absorption trick wherein all the contents of a book could be assimilated in moments, she preferred the old-fashioned way of reading each word; of course, it wasn’t actually old-fashioned, as she could speed up the time of reading, from anywhere at a normal hundred words a minute or so, to a comparatively amazing thousand words a minute (she could even speed through at five thousand words per minute, but that just felt like cheating, there was very little enjoyment), so she had in reality only spent about ten minutes reading all three books.
She could not say that she liked any of them, except maybe William’s Goldman’s book. She liked the artist, the painter of the blues, and she kind of had a crush on the young cop, and even liked the humor of the old cop. But all three books were just too “sciencey-fictiony” for her taste. And 1Q84 was actually kind of creepy, eerie. But something about all three books made her feel a little funny, indescribably odd; they gave her the feeling that someone was watching her as she read, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck.
And it freaked her out, some, that both Jack and Stacey read these books and were drawn by their reading toward suspecting what was actually happening to them, or not happening, not truly, but that they were not…real. That was impossible. The crystal sandbox was programmed in such a way that anyone even coming close to the truth was naturally led away from his or her suspicions. They were supposed to think, “Well, that’s weird,” and then just drop it, write it off as coincidence, or déjà vu, or just a plain ole weird feeling (if pressed too far, the program would remind them that perhaps they were going crazy, and then console them with the fact that crazy people do not question their sanity, and this is where it would usually end). And Jack even seemed to intuit Seven’s presence, he described it as she had always been there, a part of his life, watching him, but what he couldn’t know was that his life was only a few days old. True, anyone in the crystal sandbox would have the ability to draw on tons and tons of stored memory, impressions, remembered feelings, all the required minutia of a very real life, drawn from the data of an actual life, one lived long, long ago.
Jack was somehow sensing her presence as she examined his childhood, his boyhood, his teenage years; she had somehow become his Lady Ghost. She kind of liked that, that she was somehow inserting herself into his actual life, although she knew this was not what was in reality occurring.
A book like 1Q84 seemed to be drawing on the same conclusions; the author somehow knew that his world was more than it appeared to be, or he more likely guessed at it. More, and less. And for crying out loud, Simulacron-3 put it all out there, okay, kind of in a melodramatic science fiction way, but still, how could these authors even guess any of this? Especially from the 1960s, and the early two-thousands? The technology back then hardly hinted at what she employed today on a daily basis, even what the outside world used for everyday things. They could have no way of knowing. People like Jack, Stacey, even the authors, they were like cavemen, dreaming of a distant future.
A muffled thumping came through her Inner Sanctum. What in the world? Her hand went to her heart and pressed the locket under her sweats. What was that? Was that inside her head?
No, she realized what it was. It was not from here, in her Inner Sanctum, but it was the call from another world, the one out there, outside her chamber. Why would someone bang on her chamber? It couldn’t be good.
She inhaled deeply. She couldn’t hide, not even in here. She would have to go out there, and face whatever it was that banged like the fist of doom upon her world. She must rise from her dreams into the harsher world of RL.


Next Episode.




© Copyright 2016 Douglas Christian Larsen. Vestigial Surreality. All Rights Reserved by the Author, Douglas Christian Larsen. No part of this serial fiction may be reproduced (except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews) or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the publisher, Wolftales UNlimited, but please feel free to share the story with anyone, only not for sale or resale. This work is a work of fiction. People, places, events, and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental (wink, wink).


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