54 - 19. the outside man

by bofa xesjum

sarah looked out the window while travis read his book. look, there is a man sitting on the sidewalk outside. you mean he is not sitting on the sidewalk inside? your literal-mindedness gets more tiresome with every passsing decade. duly noted, travis replied, without looking up from his book. he looks so sad - i wonder what his problem is. you can see the expression on his face from here? i can tell from his body language, sarah replied confidently. why don’t you go out and engage him in conversation? that is a good idea - i will do just that. take your phone or your notebook - and take good notes. but sarah was out the door before the parting shot. good morning, my name is sarah , what might yours be? it might be many different things, thank you for asking. you sound just like my husband, sarah replied somewhat disappointedly. is that a compliment - is your husband a nice person? forget him - i came out here to talk to you. if i may ask, in some official or semi-official capacity? no, in a happy spirit of sincere friendship and enquiry. i think those are two different spirits - friendship and enquiry. tell me, what is in your briefcase, sarrah changed the subject. why would you want to know that? the man asked. a history of the world - ir maybe a groundbreaking novel? no, just some socks and underwear, if you must know, you can get the best socks at goodwill, he aded. but for underwear you should go to the salvation army.

54 - 18. beside the lake

by bofa xesjum

i feel i have done all i can do, sir. that is quite a statement from one so young, exeter. many have opined that i have an old soul, sir. so you have nothing for me, then? mister macardle sighed. i thought it prudent not to produce absolute rubbish, sir. feeling, like alexander, you have no more worlds to conquer. exactly, sir, i could not have said it better myself. outside the dusty window of the conference room, birds flew. ' exeter, with his old soul, walked slowly around the placid lake. mister macardle poured a cup of tea with a cavalier flourish. the door opened and proctor walked in quite at his ease. well, what did you make of him? proctor bluntly asked macardle. he just won’t do, macardle replied, he just won’t do. i will have the necessary paperwork done and steps taken. have you heard from parker ? macardle smoothly changed the subject. no, and i do not care if i ever do, exeter met juliana under a tall tree beside the lake. have you made up your mind? she asked without ceremony. i have made up my mind to conquer the world. i do not suppose you wish to take me along. of course not, it is obvious you just won’t do. pray, how any people in the world just will do? i never suspected you were such a philosopher, my dear. is not a philosopher but a person who asks questions? i never ask questions, exeter replied briskly, especially of myself. a sudden breeze stirred the lake, and a raindrop fell.

54 - 17. well furnished

by bofa xesjum

outside, the snow began to fall at an alarming rate. huddled in the grimy doorway, roger valmont felt very unhappy, he turned the collar of his ragged green coat up, how had it come to this? he asked himself speculatively. wet snow began to cover the glass in the doorway. roger could no longer see the people in the street. i am wasting my valuable time, he told himself despondently. the door opened suddenly and roger was confronted by aldington. aldington shook snow off his topcoat and glared at roger. do you live here, fellow,? aldington demanded in his brusque manner. aldington! do you not know me? roger cried out piteously. aldington’s eyes retracted in the way roger remembred so well. yes, of course, he murmured, what do you want now? now! it has been at least thirty years, roger cried. well, what is it that you want, after thirty yrars? shelter from the storm, what else would i possibly want? what could anyone possibly want? aldington muittered grimly to himself. come on up then, he added, pointing to the stairs. the elevator is broken, but the room is well furnished. roger followed aldington up four flights of dimly lit stairs. the room was indeed well furnished, and warm as well. roger sat down on a shabby but soft oriental divan. might i be offered a drink next, he mused hopefully. not yet, for aldington had disappeared into an adjoining room. roger heard aldington’s voice rising and falling, angry as ever. outside the wind joined the snow in a fierce embrace.

54 - 16. olivia and the colonel

by bofa xesjum

after olivia escaped from the dictator, she wanted to relax. she rented a cottage on the outskirts of the wilderness. she liked to look out the window at the grass. beyond the grass was the desert, and a few mudholes. a hippo named the colonel lived in the biggest mudhole. olivia was warned never to disturb or approach he colonel. because he was the fiercest beast in the southern hemisphere. olivia spent a week reading the memoirs of empress josephine. inevitably, she grew bored and sauntered down to the mudhole. the colonel was sitting there, with a supremely indifferent air. a little boy wearing a fedora sat on his back. he was the last descendant of a tribe of vikings. who had terrorized the countryside in king herod’s time. olivia offered the boy one of her hand rolled cheroots. and a light, which he accepted with casually mperial politesse. they smoked for a while in silence under the clouds. do you come here often? olivia finally asked the boy. only every sixth day after the full moon, he replied. if you do not mind my asking, olivia began tentatively - oh, you may ask me anything at all you like. they covers a great deal of territory, does it not? territory is what we have a great deal of here. you seem something of a sage for one so young. there is no youth or age here in the mudhole. is this beast actually as ferocious as he is reputed? why do you not pat his nose and find out?

54 - 15. jennifer and the potatoes

by bofa xesjum

jennifer johnson, the center of the universe, had a dream. one of the strangest dreams any human being ever had. so strange it can hardly be put into coherent words. the economy of the kingdom was based on green grapes. neither the peasants nor the nobles ever seriously questioned this. suddenly an ostrich ran across the road carrying a flag. jennifer realized she was dreaming, and tried hard to wake up. this can not be happening to me, she thought desperately. if i walk along quietly, the underlings will ignore me. and the monkeys will arrive on the mayflower in time. i have always tried to be an innocent good person. and not surrender to farmer fred and his ferocious friends. very soon, the ships will return with their precious cargo. suddenly the pile of potatoes blocked jennifer’s right of way. they never go completely away, now, do they, jennifer? it must be a judgement on you, don’t you think? a camel carrying his back to old virginia suddenly appeared.’’ need some help with those potatoes, miss, he enquired soliticiously. get behind me, devil, jennifer hissed, i know your ways. the camel turned into a rabbit and loped casually away. jennifer tried to be brave, despite all that was happening. maybe it was all meant to be, she mused hopefully. a rider appeared on the horizon, all by his lonesome. faster and faster he approached the expectant pile of potatoes. jennifer finally accepted that she was only a potato herself. even a potato needs a friendly word now and then.

54 - 14. out on highway x

by bofa xesjum

are you lonesome tonight, blackbeard sang softly to the moon. you should get a new song, little john advised him. i can remember the words to this one, blackbeard replied. the man will hear you if you sing too loud. he can hear me anyway if he dang so desires. i see we are dropping all pretenses this fine summer evening. in response to little john’s words, rain began to fall. the drops plopped on the windshield of the old vehicle . blackbeard and little john had been waiting for a while. since the beginning of time, according to some accounts. not quite so long as that, per other interested parties. in any case, blackbeard continued to sing his lonesome song. before dawn, right on time, a highway patrol car appeared. sheriff jane brown got right to the point, as usual. have we not encountered you two fellows before? she asked. and have we not previously told you to move along? officer mary white nodded her agreement in her forthright way. we have moved along, blackbeard replied in his imperturbable manner. but we have moved back again, little john added smoothly. why do you persist in your persistence, officer white demanded. you have a deeper purpose, sheriff jane brown insisted adamantly. and we will never give up until we unearth it. and that goes double for me, officer mary white concurred. we have the same purpose as the stars, blackbeard reorted. just to keep on shining, and to be lonesome tonight. oh, are you lonesome tonight, are you with me tonight?

54 - 13. eddie in the river

by bofa xesjum

the big guy watched from the window as benny parked. benny took his sweet time getting out of the truck. so how did it go? the big guy growled menacingly. it went smooth, how did you think it would go? so both packages were safely delivered, the big guy persisted. of course what else would i presumably do with them? the big guy took a small notepad out of his pocket. and a sharpened pencil, and handed them both to benny. write down exactly what you did, the big guy commanded. and keep your back to the window, he added peremptorily. benny rolled his sleepy eyes at the big guy’s paranoia. but did as he was instructed and quickly wrote something. let’s go for a ride, the big guy’s note read. the big guy absolutely never talked in his own car. they headed down the broad highway into the setting sun. benny pointed, then turned down a barely visible dirt road. they bumped along for about two miles, and then stopped. dirt was carefully smoothed over under an old black tree. looks like an awful big hole for a small package. i did not think eddie was that small a package. eddie! you moron! you were supposed to bury the money! and dump eddie in the river down by the mill. my mistake, i thought it was the other way around. the other way around? so then where is the money? benny’s trusty old .45 suddenly appeared in his steady hand. you can guess the rest - under an old black tree.