Everywhere the bombs are falling, the deus ex machina solution for stories we are too lazy to finish. They are falling outside the window, blossoming like exploding hearts. A bomb falls into my cereal bowl and the cold milk splashes across my face, waking me up.
A sense of completeness
I finished the puzzle the other day. Damn thing took years to sort out. When it was done I went and superimposed it over the vacant lot. Now it is a welcoming scene of a park, with people moving in and out. Someone is flying a kite on the other side of a hill. Children are playing near the fountain.
At home there is another puzzle. There is always another one.
Renovations
While I was tacking down some new carpet in the foyer I saw the gymnasium slide past the door. People I had never seen before were poking about the free weights. That explains the leftovers in the fridge.
Before leaving I double-checked the tripwires and the pressure in the helium tanks. Something scratched and mewled behind the boudoir door. Best leave that for the guests to find.
Got an encrypted message this morning from an agent at Cambridge. They are already working on an app to track the guests online. Excellent.
Visitation
Had to go over to the compound today for a bit of consultation. Showed Jimmy my “magic eyeball.” He’s not too thrilled with the idea of having to replace all the retinal scanners. When I told him they’re as popular as Gameboys in Shinjuku and all the hep cats have ’em on their keychains, well… he just about flipped.
Anyhow… I wasn’t there to rap with Jimmy. Gossard wanted my opinion on the enzyme micro-tracers they were field testing at Hot Topic. When the natural oils in a customer’s fingertips came in contact with the ink on their receipt, the tracers activated. Brilliant. Now I can watch little pulses of light move from Coronado down to the Pulse and then back to soccer mom’s house in the heights.
Results
The syndicate had moved the transmitter once again. Almost lost the breadcrumb trail this morning and ended up on the right side of town. I punched in the GPS coords, timestamped the packet and got out of there. Half an hour later the slot in the restroom of Dunkin Donuts spooled out a message: “Hope is the last train leaving the station. Faith says you can catch it.”
Undone
In her presence language abandoned me and I became a stare, a gaping child. I could sense the flames in the next room licking their way up the curtains, but I didn’t care. Someone has stolen a fantasy of mine and installed it in an apartment here in town…
And so it begins
I see that the Granite Industries knock-off has once again tracked me down to this site. He even tried to create an account in my name. Fortunately my countermeasures were successful and he’s been blocked. His photo still shows up, though, which could prove confusing to other people.
Halloween
And so the day approaches on swift shadowy feet. The irony of Halloween is not lost on me. The one day (or space of 12 hours, I should say) during which I am able to revert to my true form. I will float, the one true face in a sea of masks and deceptions.
With my luck I’ll probably run into Iago at the Anodyne or maybe Liquid Lounge. Hopefully it will be too early for him to be drunk and he won’t challenge me to a duel again. You simply cannot parry an epee AND do shots of Goldschlager at the same time.
And the Fae will surely be out that evening, called by the night. I must be cautious.
Once again into the breach
So here I am on MySpace again, against my better judgment. Once again I was swayed by the superior sex. Perhaps this time things won’t go down as they did before, what with the pillar of fire and the hostages. Poor Sven took a dagger in the back for me. Ironically it was the same blade I had given Cherise on the anniversary of her marriage to the duke.
Well, we shall see what transpires this time around.
The Novella is done!
Finally, I’ve completed the last revisions and I’m ready to call it done. Here it is, in PDF format: