the empty road - 5. the agent

by bofa xesjum

part five of forty

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back? not yet. i’m sorry, sir. don’t you be sorry. agent john prester was late. the director was starting to worry. what, he thought, could have gone wrong? outside in the distance a mountain lion howled. prester was his most valuable and most trusted agent. he had seen and done things too terrible to describe. and now he had mysteriously vanished - into the darkness of oblivion. prester had a lot on his plate - had it suddenly become too much? and then, he had mysteriously asked the director for a few days’ leave. i had a feeling something was wrong, the director told himself , shaking his head. daggett, the director’s trusted right hand man, looked out the window into the foggy night. prester’s probably just held up in this everlasting blasted fog, he remarked confidently over his shoulder. prester had never let a little thing like war or revolution - let alone fog - stop him before. daggett had no reply, and kept looking stolidly out the window, when suddenly the phone shattered the silence. who can that be? the director muttered, only three people know this number and two of them are dead. daggett turned from the window to answer the phone on the director’s desk, when there was a knock on the door. next

the empty road - 4. the trooper

by bofa xesjum

part four of forty

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headlights. yellow headlights. bright yellow headlights. what absolutely rotten luck! get out of the car! a trooper with a big hat. covering the ground with long manly strides. mrs hartwright and the prince exit the car. collins remains crouched behind the car, on the alert. he is concealed by the raised trunk of the car. but the trooper is not as dumb as he initially seems. he draws his pistol and shouts, come out with your hands up! collins obeys, as the trooper produces a flashllght and trains it on him. poor john prester’s body remains on the ground, to all appearances still quite dead. if the trooper sees the body , he does not say so, and mrs hartwright speaks.. i am most sincerely happy to see you , officer, it seems my husband is somewhat indisposed. the trooper’s name is larry varney, and is trained and ready to mean business at all times. larry does not like the looks of mrs hartwright and the prince , and does not conceal his disdain. but he keeps his flashlight and his focus on collins, and asks him to step out into the road. larry gives no indication that he has noticed the body of john prester lying in the dirt behind the car. next

the empty road - 3. the dark

by bofa xesjum

part three of forty

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later. a road. a dark road. a dark country road. are we there yet? i think this is the place. come now, you think, or you know? <> pull over, mrs hartwright tells collins, the chauffeur the prince exhales a melancholy sigh, but says nothing. collins, as instructed, pulls over carefully and stops the car. a long wooden railing separates the car from an untended field. am i to do anything? the prince asks petulantly, with another sigh. collins is quite capable, mrs hartwright assures him, as she lights a cigarette. collins gets out of the car. there is no light, except for mrs hartwright’s cigarette. the prince does not hear collins open the trunk, but he does hear a sudden - thump as john prester’s body hits the ground, and then a grunt as collins lifts it. i say, do you remember jenny thorndike? mrs hartwright suddenly asks the prince in a casual tone. i would prefer to forget her, the prince replies. what has she to do with all this racket? she was always getting into scapes like this. they were all in a day’s - or night’s - work to her. the prince opens his mouth to reply, but suddenly a pair of yellow headlights appear in the road up ahead… next

the empty road - 2. the room

by bofa xesjum

part two of forty

to read part one, click here

yes. he enters. the door closes. please step this way. the room is in shadows. lit only by an ancient fireplace. would you like a drink, she asks. i would prefer to get down to business. he is aware of another person in the room. i, too, would prefer to get right down to business. john prester turns and confronts his ancient adversary - prince ladislas o’brian. the prince has aged considerably since john prester has last seen him. the prince does not rise to greet john prester, but remains firmly seated. i could use a drink myself, if you do not mind, the prince adds. you used to sit before more roaring fires, if i recall, john prester retorts casually. the fires were more roaring all over the world in those days , the prince states decisively. mordant, mrs hartwright’s butler, enters with a tray of drinks and places it on a low table. are you sure you do not care for a drink, mrs hartwright asks john prester with a smile. a cup of coffee if you please, john prester replies and pulls a chair up closer to the fire. the butler leaves to get john prester’s coffee, and the prince picks up a sandwich from the tray and sighs. next

the empty road - 1. the man

by bofa xesjum

part one of forty

night. a street. a man walking. where is he going? maybe he does not know. a cloud passes over the moon. suddenly a light appears in a window. the man decides to knock on the door. he has come to the end of the trail. a trail which began years ago in a little town. and is now about to end in the most dramatic fashion. the man’s name is john prester, and he has been done wrong. he knocks on the door, checks his pocket, straightens his hat, and waits. he has waited all this time, and wants to be sure everything is right… the door opens and a woman is there, wearing a red hat and blue coat why are you wearing a hat and coat? the man asks in a somewhat hesitant manner i was just stepping outside to meet some friends, the woman replies nonchalantly in a melodious voice i think you should invite me inside and offer me a drink, the man says, loudly and clearly. in that case you must be captain john prester, on special assignment from the central committee for reorganizing society. and you, madam, are none other than matilda hartwright, the belle of the ball and the cream of the crop. next

grain

by bofa xesjum

illustrations by pete palomine

a grain of white sand on the blue carpet on the red staircase leading to the golden throne of the silent queen in purple heaven dreaming of green meadows orange sunsets black wings and gray stones and gray stones in the rain

zeke (he, part 2)

by bofa xesjum

zeke quigley went his own way. but he blended in with the crowd. he knew they were waiting for him. but he kept on keeping on. he only wanted what was rightfully his. he patiently waited for his chance nobody got off telling him what to do. he stayed true to his dream. and stayed the course through thick and thin. but he kept his own counsel. and watched from the shadows. playing the game his own way. he knew the game was rigged. but all games are rigged. zeke had a dream. that kept him going as he walked the streets with the crowd. it was no joke. he knew someday he would meet someone. someone who would show him the way. the way out of the shadows. and into the sunlight. he was just like you and me and everybody else. he played a waiting game. he knew the dream would come true. he just wanted to live his own life. just like everybody else. almost everybody else. everybody except the ones who were trying to find him.