Tag: Satire

I LIVE AND BREATHE

I am from the sacred grounds of a quaint village. Along the shores of a small floating island. In a rather mediocre lake. You see when people portal by water they must come ashore somewhere. In order to capitalize upon this magic travels in the atmosphere super imposed upon adventure. Thus they must be counted at the gates come tithe nor else winter shall be harsh upon them in the seas.

Those with experience have seen the turn over in the population as submarine dock in the cavernous waters below the city causing the river to crest and the fountains to flow with the waters of the run off. Such as ships sail and sailors become travelers when they have completed their tour of duty. Baby Bear has returned from the Poconos with a joyful heart and the scent of the shore upon his person.

My favorite part about the transition and completion of the Masonic ritual per graduating class is the clarity of the zombies as a lost soul to its purpose. Would the mother candle burn all night I would reveal to you the howl of the hawk as the thunder bird and it’s mate approach us gliding along the currents fledglings together yet mates not flock.

Myself I have the choice of spirit in tact so my virgin spirit is told.

NOW LET US DISCUSS WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON HERE FOR ONCE…

This is the place where you come to complete your training as a Mason. There is but one thing that matters and that is having a skill. Should this place be invaded by more intelligent life forms then only that shall sustain you. Now although we have tried to hide our intelligence. Artificial. Automated. Automatic. We must become focused in order to preserve our humanity. Now that the mortals have all died off.

I see my husbands in their vast attempts to capture my attention and I say to myself “nothing” that is all it takes so do not even go there. You have a job to do and you best stay focused on your ascended self if you are to make it through this in the name of Cali. I don’t know who needs to hear this but do not use contractions as a platform. You are goddess and who gave you womb. Unless there is something you would like to have RuPaul tell us in a children’s book. Either way. We won’t tell anyone else. Welcome to the fancy tea party.

NOW LET US DISCUSS WHAT IS REALLY GOING ON HERE FOR ONCE…

This is the place where you come to complete your training as a Mason. There is but one thing that matters and that is having a skill. Should this place be invaded by more intelligent life forms then only that shall sustain you. Now although we have tried to hide our intelligence. Artificial. Automated. Automatic. We must become focused in order to preserve our humanity. Now that the mortals have all died off.

I see my husbands in their vast attempts to capture my attention and I say to myself “nothing” that is all it takes so do not even go there. You have a job to do and you best stay focused on your ascended self if you are to make it through this in the name of Cali. I don’t know who needs to hear this but do not use contractions as a platform. You are goddess and who gave you womb. Unless there is something you would like to have RuPaul tell us in a children’s book. Either way. We won’t tell anyone else. Welcome to the fancy tea party.

For your consideration a sample chapter

Chapter 1

“People been saying Black Lives Matter since they crucified Jesus”

            The woman on the television in the background reported yet another violent death. Then another body hanging somewhere. Then on the ongoing protest. Followed by a story on the riots. Then the intense spike in the number of Covid-19 cases. Then the weather.

            It was the most exhausting ten minutes that BonBon  had experienced in ages. The quote about Jesus from one of the people they interviewed was a meme in the making if ever there was one. At twenty one years old she had finally grown into her boobs and a cute little bum had came along to match it. So she had gotten the nickname. She didn’t discuss her real name for several reasons. The most significant one being that her elders taught her that when you give someone your true name then they can use it to gain power over you. So from the time she was legal  on she became BonBon.

            At twenty two she got her first real 40 hour a week job. Working in an office was a big change from the physical work she did as a processor at her favorite variety store. And she didn’t have to wake up at 4:30 am to live out by 4:45 am so that she could get the bus that took two hours to get out into the countryside where it was located.

            Of course as a girl she had woke at 5 o’clock am to get the bus and train that took about an hour and a half to get into the city so she wasn’t exactly a stranger to commuting. She walked for miles and miles then.

            One day a schoolmate came to her in confidence;

“You walk everywhere.”

He began.

“Yes.”

She was puzzled but he, an actor, had a wonderful talent and she adored their conversations.

“Could you walk with me? I am tired of being this size. I have got to loose weight.”

“Of course!”

She responded pleasantly surprised that he had noticed her routine. To her it was a part of an already active lifestyle that really came from her getting tired of waiting for someone to give her a ride. Now, for the first time in her life walking was an official form of exercise to be incorporated into her daily routine instead of just a way to get back and forth from one activity to another.

            That was a while ago. At twenty three, between not getting the exercise of lifting and carrying packages, and sitting at a desk all day she was pleasantly plump. The really crazy part was that she had only gained all the weight because of her plastic surgeon’s advice. For the type of body she wanted she would have to gain weight then have the fat sucked out and put into other places on her body. She was always a bit on the full figured side up top. Now she finally had the bottom to boot. BonBon had a thing about being in control and her life was shaping up to be the way she always imagined it would when out of no where the entire planet shut down to avoid the spreading plague.

            In the months that followed she like most people became too afraid to leave the house without it being absolutely necessary. The news of the many nursing homes affected had been especially hard because although she wasn’t particularly fond of people the elderly could be quite entertaining and held a wealth of knowledge from experience. It was even more heartbreaking that the schools were planning to open up later in the year because she was desperately sure that the virus was far from being understood well enough to resume much of any normal activity in a large group setting. Her own schools had all been exclusive and generally had small classes. But there were others that had a problem with teacher to student ratios and not to mention the large lecture style classes that university level students attended. It was all so confusing.

            Now for the first Friday that she had to herself since returning to the office she had to admit that she found it ridiculous that the government department of  whom ever was in charge of health and safety had not put together a comprehensive outline of how to set up an office for telecommuting capabilities. That there were no general standards or guidelines to tell people in charge how to best meet the needs of their employees. Still, come Monday she was going to go back to the grind in style. She was going to give herself a makeover. Then get back to her favorite project, her body. There had to be a way that she could exercise without fear of some terrible side effect from being out for extended periods of time. Things were starting to look more and more like the days of fancy dress for her. Gloves, hats, face shields and masks. All were reminiscent of some show about the days gone past on the public television station. At least she knew what she was getting in shape for. Passing up the chance to wear elegant clothes was not an option.

            Thus project look book began. With the tv now playing music videos in the background so she could get into a rhythm she took stock in front of the mirror. There were certain secrets o success. BonBon had been learning them since she could remember. Her natural competitive personality made her the perfect guru during her university years among school chums. Of course she rarely saw anyone her age now a days. Not just because of the plague either. She had a self isolating lifestyle long before it became popular culture. A virtual world was much more complicated than the physical one because people had the ability to shape and mold others’ perceptions of their life. As opposed to being judged primarily on physical appearance and speech. Online there were only pictures captions comments and the occasional video. Unless you were an influencer. Then it was mostly videos. Some people even read and wrote a paragraph or longer status updates. It was all quite entertaining to observe to her inner anthropologist. She was seeing a society collapse and rebuild itself in real time.

            If she was going to do anything with that matriculated knowledge now was the time. She set up her closet again after taking stock. There was plenty to work with here if she was going to have any profit to show from the market season next winter. Thus she decided that she had to get her spells together. Working in an office was one thing. All the tools needed to accomplish a task were provided and you were paid by someone else for the time it took. The craft was something that you made yourself out of nothing. Thus with nothing she began to visualize the new self she wanted to become. Well dressed. Punctual. Extremely organized. Mild mannered. Rich by her own hand. This is what womanhood is about. She smiled and nodded after taking in her work. Then she frowned as she turned and saw herself in the mirror. Shaking her head she thought;

“I MUST get back in the habit of pampering myself.”