Cardinal Points I



"Thanks," she says, lights a Camel.

Only been walking since hearing that whole thing, done nothing else for, to or with. Might not even realise she said, whole thing having likely been even harder on her as female. Let it pass, then. Slip into crystalline memory.

(levels reconverge webs of illusion juxtapose weavewith new solidity flow rigid into noform form only for the senses only for the senses truly the penofMarduk working its deception for all down into levels reconverging Jungian spiderwalks over foreheadwrinkles and silkslipswishes found only in the lines not the linesdescriptions distortions of mountains dissolving through and through and only through sillitseems following youreyes)

Cigarette of his own, then, nicotine loves company. Light, puff, but too much of an edge on this one -

Coughs spasm through, bounce around the ribs, jerk the fist up to mouth, double him over with their force. Relentless violence inside. Drawn into tearing and bursting.

"You okay?"

Shake of the head. "I think I almost lost myself in that one." Another drag, fend off milder coughs. Must be mad keeping on with these poisons. Subtler than real suicide, hide it even from the self.

(endofthepark up steps of stoneorconcrete to narrow sidewalk immediate road asphault boundary to fence in demons of imaginary peace with blatancy asmuchasyoulikeit air only walls without verbs need be vertical verbs always more powerful than structure verbs honesty structures illusions like contrast as definition takes your hold for you consultations resulting in excess bound inagain by cellularintellectualspiritual descriptions of lines only)

Door held open to him. Intentional role-reversal or kindness? Start on in, then. "Why thank you, milady." Nod and a smile. Cigarette. Hold on, then. "I take it you can smoke in here?"

"Greasy dive, remember?"

"Right." Keep on in, then. Tiny place, infinitesmal, really. Smell of smoke and fat in the air, evidenced visually on the ceiling. Imposing bar with monolithic bolted-down stools, old cash register, not electric, with a film over the window one attempts to read the charges through, menu above it all with letters fallen off here and there. Biker, bum, and businessman spaced out on stools around the counter. Take a seat between the bum and the biker. Safer that way. Ashtrays clean, anyway. Watch Kali tap off her Camel into one. Easy to get lost in the smell of this place.

"What'll it be?" The cook. Hard not to miss, had blended in so well with the surroundings. Almost a stereotype. Odd to live that way, must be. Probably without even realising. Wonder if anyone's ever told him as much. Reaction would be interesting. Tempting idea, there. Wonder what Kali would think to that.

"Give us a minute," says she, and off he goes. Perhaps when they've taken the rest of the minute, then.

(metalshine through greasefilm to cornea some bounces back through vitreous portal collides with pinpoints of flesh explosive intangible conversion allowing fleshpoints too to become portals in turn and metalshine flows through fleshwires already caught the eye now catch the mind radiants off of spontaneously genesised irreal point reflection distortion and from there is found)

"So, are you here permanently too?"

Thunderclap of a question, as it goes. Drawn out of reverie. That's it power, there. "I wouldn't presume to coment on what may or may not be permanent. I have, however, no imminent plans for further relocation." Eloquence an impediment, at times. "I'm guessing that you've been living here since your departure from The Circle. Would I be correct, there?"

"Close enough. Coffee, and give us another minute."

"The same. What, exactly, might that mean?"

"Not too much." Gets her coffee, defiles it with cream and sugar. Ordered coffee again, even though shakes have already taken hold. Mistake, there. Keep it black, drink less, then. Intently watches herself stir, looks up. "What's left of the Circle?"

(door opens bellringing incomes pair of allinblacks giant boots fishnets greenteasedhair one ontheleft male and skinny seeing back of herhead stops to recognise sees suitfreak lookdarts away back to back of herhead loking for moreclues can't quite place back to suitfreak over to friend sits and whispers)

"Only the wrath of Daniel."

Tiny laugh out of her on that. "So, what role did you play in the whole thing?"

"Just that of a rat on a sinking ship." Time to parse the memories. Things have got to be properly ordered, temporally, for her sake. Last draw of the cigarette, snuff it. Quick taste of the still scalding coffee. "Almost immediately after you left, Lillith began playing Enki and Daniel against each other. I calmly and politely explained to the others that they were fucking up the one part of my life where I specifically didn't want to see any power games, pulled my Shard from the Ring, and left."

"And that was it?"

"No. Lillith and Daniel both kept hounding me for weeks. Daniel said that he needed my help in holding the whole thing together, and Lillith wanted my support for an insurrection from Enki. Every time another Shard was pulled, I received a desperate phone call from each of them. Sometimes from Enki himself. Once from Hastur, when he realised that the whole thing was falling to shit."

(rebuilding something that was never there as he throws it all away begins to see that the past was all just ! as all that is left is regained defining that which is to be rebuilt as she seeks out his tongue her fingers coated in venom descending into dank murky holes with thirteen dying gods doors open blinding with their contrast seeing more than they wanted to but saying that was the whole point to begin with)

"Wow. How much of this, do you think, had to do with me?"

"That's hard to say. For the most part, I think it was inevitable, but you may have acted as an excellent catalyst."

"The jury out yet?" Cook again, probably just wanting to delay approaching a couple of goth kids in the corner. Kali orderinga BLT, fries. Have to decide, then. "I'll have a double cheeseburger, medium-rare."

"Fries?"

"No, thank you." Cook turns around to face his grill, diappearing into the surroundings with that one movement. Kali drains the rest of her coffee, shoves the empty cup to the edge of the counter for a refill. Look down at own cup, still steaming. Another careful sip, plus de chaud encore. Wonder how she does that.

(not exactly ripped from the womb)

"What did you do with yourself between leaving the Circle and moving out here? I know that must have been a huge change for you."

Test the coffee once more. Almost drinkable. "To put it mildly, yes. At first, I really didn't know what to do with myself. I couldn't enjoy the company of anyone who was still in The Circle, as they never seemed to go more than ten minutes without trying to get me to rejoin. Sadly, I discovered that I didn't really have any other friends left. I tried to use it as an opportunity to get to know my roommates a bit better, but I found that they never did much besides going out with their friends and getting drunk. Since I found their friends to be of little interest, I decided that I preferred solitary inebriation, and for a few weeks scotch and bourbon were my nightly companions."

Pull out another cigarette, shaking even more now. Zippo really won't catch now, flint must be completely dead. Sudden flame right in front - Kali. Inhale. "Thanks. So, before long, drunkenness lost its thrill, and I again found myself absorbed in computers. The fact that I already spent eight hours with them each day started to depress me somewhat, after a while, but I found myself without any other outlets that had the potential to be nearly so engrossing. I found myself as some sort of wandering sage on the Internet, giving advice to angst-ridden teenagers and correcting Neitzsche quotations. At least, that's how my self-image would have had it."

(muscular instability following emotional pastreturn storyteller taking hold of himself making a sacrifice to Understanding to what end still undecided but dominating the moment that future alongwith the past being drawn back into the process of escape)

"I started pondering the consequences of disappearing from my place in the physical world, or meatspace, as I had come to call it. Even though I had been living up there for years, it seemed as though my sudden absence would hardly change a thing. To all of the people there who had ever really mattered to me, with the exception of those from The Circle, I imagined that I was already no more than a memory, either bittersweet or entirely without flavor. Connotation. To countless other acquaintances, I would become even less than that. My roommates would have to find a replacement for my share of the rent, but I had never developed a strong kinship with them. To The Circle, or what was left of it, I was already lost. Perhaps my absence would be noted from a handful of local bars and coffee shops, but as more of an enigma than anything else. People wondering aloud about me over a game of chess, perhaps, but losing track of the thought when their turn came around. There must have been dozens, scores of people who would be sure to notice my presence, but never my absence. It seemed as though the only people I truly cared about, odd as it may sound, were really just photons colliding with my computer screen, and that screen could be taken with me. The decision to leave, then, became a very easy one to make. I arranged for an apartment and a contracted job down here, and three weeks ago, with as little fanfare as possible, I left."

(acceleration of physicalact not physicalmotion air from pinkflesh through pinkflesh out pinkflesh to pinkflesh to grey muscles heaving for the glory of communication of release at the empathic core of a companion regained over brownflesh once pinkflesh deemed unworthy to breathe deemed worthy to bleed liquidcore of its lifechannels soaking into grains it once fed on)

Burger in front of him already. Return to the present, something new has joined. Stomach busy churning with memory. Empathy for the past. Give it a few minutes, maybe then. Heavy sigh through Kali's nose. Sandwich by her also untouched. Another cigarette done with.

"I think that just about sums up what I went through," says she, "only for me it was instantaneous. Not much thought involved in the whole thing. It was like all in one moment I was fed up with The Circle, I was lost without them, I was in an intoxicated stupor, I was in an all-too sober state of lucidity, I was adrift entirely, and I had already moved on." She picks up a fry, points it towards herself, back down again. "Then, bang! I was here. Only that's just how it seem in retrospect. At the time, it was a lot more like being drawn and quartered."

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