mg_04 cr0wl graham found the old leather pouch to go around kufraya's neck that he and molly had made from an old world war 2 bomber jacket her great-grandfather had worn when chasing zeroes over the pacific. molly had embroidered mg on the side with red thread. graham painted several circles inside a square that he had made from squishing several thousand pokeberries one warm indian summer day. it was large enough to hold a book the size molly had made for him so graham decided to fashion one of his own for her out of cardboard, glue, and multi-colored designs he had painstakingly cut and shaped from hundreds of magazines his mother had given him. he even wrote a few poems in black sharpie: tiger tiger where hiding among the hidden tiger tiger there see there is one thing thoughts filled by its consuming never happening he found watercolor crayons and made several drawings of fish with bright lights for eyes, of bats and rats, of a man wearing the mask of a tiger, of a boat made of fireflies, and on the final page he used his own blood from a cut when kufraya accidently scratched him, to write the two letters which also adorned the bag; mg. when his book was done, he put it inside the bag and tied it with careful consideration around kufraya. "do you know where molly is?" he asked her and although he did not expect her to answer him, he knew she understood what he meant. she met his gaze and then seemed to take a deep breath, tossed her graceful neck back and then uttered a soul-piercing cry. it was haunting and emotional as if she was emitting the very sense of loss molly was experiencing. graham marveled at the sound and he attempted to mimic it but his voice only broke like a piece of sandstone and was disappointing. "come on girl," he said, holding out his arm and kufraya jumped on it. "it's time to let_it_fly." 101006 ... crowli as molly followed her dancing butterfly without hesitation deeper into the green labyrinth, she gave no consideration to where she was going to end up, which was highly unusual for her, especially since the purple shadows of dusk were descending upon the maze. she had always been careful and analytical, overly so at times, and graham was forever telling her just to trust him; that he'd had it all under control. she trusted graham....she did, but he could be reckless at times in the name of having fun. 'i miss him so much.' molly thought to herself, and though it seemed as if some negative emotion should be tied to graham not being with her, she was not sad. there was only eager anticipation. he was here somewhere, she could feel him. soon, she would see him.    molly breathed deep, and unexpectedly inhaling the scent of lavender, her thoughts glided to a halt upon her mom. the memory of her parents' conversation she'd overheard earlier was still raw and freshly near the surface, yet once again, though she could have been sad and distressed that her fragile family fortress was about to crumble to pieces, molly felt nothing but warmth in her heart. 'there is no lavender anywhere in here....i wonder if this maze is magic?' molly pondered as she stooped down to tie her left pink shoelace that had become undone. 'how can i be so happy when everything is falling apart?'  while she was close to the ground her eye caught a glint of something shiny next to her foot in the thick carpet of grass, and so molly reached for it, automatically curious. digging at the moist sod promptly filled her fingernails with brown earth but she procured her treasure fairly quickly. it was a strange sterling silver object that looked to be hand crafted in its obviously unique duality.  one end was a fountain pen and the opposite end was definitely a key. molly palmed the prize and looked up to locate her butterfly, however, her belly clenched when she could not see her guide anymore. it was definitely getting dark, and she knew she needed to be getting on her way to seek shelter. molly stood up and took three steps forward, only to gather that she had arrived at a three-pronged fork within the maze. molly was forced to make a choice between three paths. she was frozen with indecision.   as her gaze floated upward she tried to assimilate herself to her position on the grounds but she had no visual connection with the house. it was as if it had vanished and this maze had taken its place. this maze that had seemed to appear out of nowhere. 'hmmmmmmm,' molly thought, 'what now?' she sank to the ground and pulled out her key_pen. 'i wonder if is thing is supposed to help me somehow.' molly thought, studying it briefly then putting it to work as she absently drew a black ink tattoo on the inside of her left wrist. it was two lower case letters: mg, for molly_and_graham. she had just finished and was admiring her art when molly jumped at a faint hissing sound.suddenly the middle of the three possible paths lit up like it had been decorated for the holidays. red and white twinkle lights were intertwined through the lush green shrubberies, bathing it in warm, inviting almost fire-like illumination, making it the obvious choice for moving on. her path had essentially been chosen for her, which she did not acknowledge, and yet she felt her confidence returning once again.  molly looked ahead, and there he was again; her guide, the dancing butterfly. "you're back" molly said, smiling huge and breathing a sigh of relief. she followed it obediently, this time at a slow leisurely pace, allowing her time and relaxation as she contemplated what might possibly be at the other end. 'will i need my new key?' molly wondered excitedly, never once considering she could have blindly walked into a trap. molly hummed to herself and lost in thought, she wrote poetry in her head.  'to sing a song of better days fill your thoughts in different ways'   she never saw the pure white stripe-less siberian tiger that had caught her scent and wandered onto the red lit path behind her.                   101006 ... cr0wl graham wanted to add a handwritten letter to kufraya's leather pouch, already containing his crazy book, and so it being a pleasant morning, he ventured outside into the back garden, stepping amongst a meandering flagstone path, brushing past large plants of rosemary and releasing their aromatic pungency into the rain-washed air. he held kufraya in one arm and the book molly was going to send him in the other. when he reached a plot of grass surrounded by a swirling mass of russian sage, he entered, setting kufraya down with gentle respect for her delicacy. she strutted into the yard and though her tail spread was not as impressive as a male's, it still sent a buzzing of wonder through graham. he opened the book to a loose piece of paper he had stuck in the pages and with a pen he had grabbed from a desktop, began writing: dear molly, thank you for the mg book. it is a strange place for the story to end because so much more has happened since. about me...i don't know what happened. i think i'm experiencing all of my identities. i hope i see you soon. i have so much i want to talk to you about. it was nice to see kufraya again. i can't wait for you to see the book i made for you. thanks for the book you made. it is very cool. i guess this is all i have to say. p.s. did you ever feel like you were on a train that was running out of tracks? and then just as graham was going to sign his name, he heard a blood curdling shriek come from kufraya. 101007 ... crowli the tiger king peeked in on the sleeping molly and graham replicas and sighed, noting their innocent faces, peacefully expressionless in their slumber while their youthful bodies intertwined in comfortable companionship. he correctly perceived that they dreamed of each other. satisfied that they would not awaken as he studied them, he removed his mask and breathed in deeply through his nose, the action provoking an immediate strident cough that he was unable to control. the children did not startle. he thought molly and graham appeared as though they were inseparable, and briefly questioned himself as to whether or not there was harm in that. the tiger king was fully aware that the unexpected wait to rejoin their other identities was difficult for all four of them, yet it was an essential stepping stone for each. he was thrilled that they were depending upon each other for strength in all different dimensions. ‘restraint is one of the most difficult lessons to teach,’ he reasoned, shrugging indifferently as he turned away from them and moved toward the stairs. pausing before he mounted the first step, the tiger king coughed noisily again, and his large hand reflexively grasped the ornate cherry trimmed banister to steady himself. he thought about graham, and his plan to try to find his molly using kufraya, and he grinned approvingly. he was very proud of graham, indeed, and he pondered that though his progress had been slow but steadily positive, his challenges had been the most significant thus far. but his real tests were actually yet to come. ‘i hope he is a quick study.’ the tiger king sniffed haughtily and chuckled at his own joke. the king was justifiably worried about old molly, however. her world was a proverbial train wreck in progress, with the worst of the damage still primed to happen. molly’s frame of mind in her present state was suggestive that she was setting herself up for failure. ‘failing what though?’ the tiger king thought long and hard about his next move, knowing his own personal challenge that he continued to face with her. ‘she is such an easy target right now,’ he reflected. ‘what she doesn’t know she knows, she just needs to open up her heart to find the truth.’ though he made every attempt to maintain objectivity with her, molly held a special place in the tiger king’s heart. he acknowledged this as neither a mistake nor a benefit; however it was his reality, his truth. but she was his secret. ‘everyone has secrets,’ he thought to himself, shaking his head and absently running his fingers though his salt and pepper beard, ‘even me,’ and he continued to climb the stairs for there was much work to be done. the tiger king arrived in his private quarters, and closing the door quietly behind him, he stopped at the butler pantry in the massive hallway to discard his mask and robe. he switched the stereo system on, and soon citizen_cope was crooning through the speakers, complimenting the occasion perfectly with his signature melancholy voice. the toss of a perfunctory glance around the mahogany trimmed room procured an anticipatory smile as the tiger king caught sight of the two waiting bottles of ponzi reserve pinot noir that he’d chosen for this occasion. he’d admittedly taken to getting inebriated in order to complete the more difficult tasks that involved molly, reasoning that if it hurt him to cause her pain, at least he would numb himself sufficiently as he did so. he commenced with the task of opening the first bottle, and after decanting a healthy four fingers into his ornate waterford goblet, he settled into his overstuffed leather chair and lit a hand rolled cigarette. “to smoke or drink first...that is the question,” he uttered into the empty room, and pulling back the heavy forest green brocade drapery shading the immense window, he gazed down into the maze to check on molly. 101007 ... cr0wl when graham heard kufraya's scream, he felt as if a firm and insistent hand had seized his own throat and was preventing him from gaining a next breath. as if life was suddenly questionable, whittled down to a thin band of metal from constant wear. but in that millisecond expanded by entropy, graham was made shockingly aware that it was not him that was being killed, it was kufraya. he dropped the pen and paper to the emerald grass and shot forwards like a fish leaping from the surface of the water. he was at her side in a flash, her shrill explosion of terror still ringing in his ears. he saw a look of fear in her eyes that could only come from the contemplation of the utter loss of everything one knows and loves. "it's ok," he said, cradling her like a baby. he could not see anything wrong with her upon his initial assessment. no bones seemed to be broken. there was no blood. at least not yet. kufraya breathed hard and rapid. she began to pant. "shh...shh...it's ok," graham continued, stroking her red veleveteen feathers. his eyes darted in and around the garden area. he knew the attacker was hiding. "come out you coward!" he said, his voice strangely forceful and bold. moments later, graham heard the unmistakeable, low-throated growl of a tiger. it was short-lived but carried twice the sound of his utterance and demanded respect for the very hostility it represented. he felt a tingling at the base of his neck as if he was being bitten. graham stood with kufraya in his arms and planted himself firmly in the stand of sweet woodruff. seconds later, from behind a blue, oak-leafed hydrangea, a stripe-less, white tiger presented itself. it sat on its haunches and gave a quick lick to its right paw. "how dare you attack this coveted bird!" graham burst forth, sending forth a challenge. the tiger responded with a snarl, mostly to show its massive set of sharp teeth, dripping with saliva. "you cannot stop what has been set into motion!" graham yelled out, his voice crackling like the toasted surface of creme brulee. the tiger, without warning, sprung forwards, leaping over a small lantana, and headed straight towards graham and kufraya. its paws moved it with effortless agility in a silent missle strike, sure to hit its target. graham froze and when the tiger was ten feet away from him, every instinctual statute written on his dna regarding the human's will to survive thrusted into alert. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" graham erupted. he had become a volcano of defensive volition. the tiger stopped, whipped its tail back and forth slicing the air with the snap of submission, and walked away into the shrubbery, where it would hide itself again. graham felt a warm, wetness on his chest. kufraya was bleeding. 101008 ... crowli old molly never once considered that she should be paying attention to where she was going, or at least marking her path with some sort of hansel and gretel method just in case. she was consumed with delight for some reason. it was a feeling she knew well, for it mimicked the euphoria she felt each time she visited her family's weekend retreat in the mountains. it was difficult to explain how an environment was able to provide such definitive comfort, but yet here she was, wandering through a garden chasing a butterfly and having the time of her life. molly stopped to glance skyward for a quick second and noticed that night had fallen, cloaking the garden maze in a dark heather shawl of frost-laced cashmere. she felt that the temperature had dropped, however she was strangely not chilled. the evening was crisp and startlingly clear, and though they were just barely visible because of her red-backlit environment, molly saw that there were millions of stars in the sky. the butterfly had paused on a leafless branch. molly caught up to her guide and moved in closer, and promptly witnessed that his wings held a brand new message for her. ‘be careful.’ “be careful?” molly inquired aloud to the butterfly, not actually expecting an answer. she twirled her body around in a quick pirouette, gazing skyward once again. “why should I be careful? this is the most fun i’ve had in a long time.” but when she completed her rotation, she noticed that the butterfly had vanished. suddenly molly’s legs felt weary, and her eyes burned as though she required sleep. for the first time since she entered the maze, she wondered where exactly she was going, and as reality kicked in that she could have possibly made a mistake, so too did fear. she had blindly wandered into this maze following bliss. she had trusted the unknown. she had allowed her imagination to run away and conjure up a vivid and believable scenario that would bring her graham back. only graham was no closer, and now all she felt was lonely and lost. shaking her head back and forth as if she was trying to clear a drawing that had appeared across the etch a sketch of her mind’s eye, molly straightened her shoulders and demanded that her feet move forward. but then, like history was attempting to repeat itself like a skipping record, she realized that she had come to another fork in the path. only this time neither path was lit. molly instinctively turned around, fully intending to quickly retrace her steps and endeavor to return to the beginning of the maze. “this was such a bad idea,” she spoke into the soft red light, and she took a step into the path she had walked to get to her current location. and the path went pitch dark, bathing her in darkness. molly felt that all-too-familiar surge of adrenaline coursing through her whole body, raising her heart rate and causing her senses to sharpen to silvery knives. “noooooooooooo! She cried, her breathy plea disappearing into the shrubbery like a settling foggy mist. she slumped to the ground and folded her fatigued legs indian style, but then changing her mind, she simply gave up and laid down on her back, exhausted. “oh graham...where are you? i need you...” molly spoke again, but her voice was barely a whisper. she stared into the sky, and thought of the many nights she and graham had lain on their backs and counted constellations. one memory sparked another, and she smiled when she recalled a particular rainy fall afternoon when they had made collages for each other out of black construction paper and cut out white circles. they had painstakingly cut and pasted them.it had taken literally all day. molly remembered that they had made it into a game, agreeing that neither would reveal their work until completion. when they were finished, they had made a dramatic show of unveiling their masterwork, as though they were presenting each other with valuable showpieces. their drawings were nearly identical, each having a spray of small white ‘stars’ with a definitively larger star in the center. they had exclaimed in unison, “bright star!” then, “jinx on you!” molly would never forget that day. she had to find graham. she had to get up and make a move. but she felt suddenly overwhelmingly tired, and sighing, she buried her face in her hands, pressing her fingers into her eyes and startling herself with the brightness it caused. when she did so, she thought to make a wish upon one of the bazillion stars in the sky above her. ‘it can’t hurt…’ she thought, closing her eyes again. she wished that the tiger king would help her find graham. 101009 ... . mg_05 101010 what's it to you? who go blather from