mg_07 cr0wl dennis browne extended his right arm and graham was surprised to see kufraya jump upon it as if it was the bonsai hemlock branch of her cage inside the secret house. she teetered a moment in her weakened state like a drunk girl on a tightrope but the look of fire in her eyes that dennis perceived was burning even brighter. perhaps she wasn't ready or able to physically fly, but mentally she was, already imagining, with her tiny bird brain, herself, soaring over the tops of the tallest trees, over the tresses of the sea, her leather pouched stuffed with letters, and books, drawings, paintings, candies, cakes, sea glass, shells, seagull feathers, everything one could give to a best friend to show a material comparison to their eminent value. "follow me," dennis said, pointing with his left arm to a bend up ahead where the belgium block road was swallowed by the unknown present. graham considered all of his life at that moment. who am i? he thought. he closed his eyes for the amount of time for tears to wash across his cornea and cleanse his vision. he peered inside his soul. i am this human being. i have six senses. i have learned how to live and survive. i know what it takes. but i want something i can't have. this is how we fall. he remembered standing in front of the door and seeing molly in front of hers. then they both fell. he opened his eyes and there was dennis with kufraya on his arm. he looked like some madman in a gypsy circus about to perform his world famous bird trick. "let me get my bag," graham said, zipping it up. he slung it across his shoulder. he was still curious about kufraya's sudden connection to dennis browne, as if she knew him. are we all connected? graham mused. he began walking with them. we are so many but we are so alone on this planet floating all by itself in the universe like some egg in a nest. we are all we have. he realized kufraya was his connection to molly. that's why she wanted to get better. she flew. she had to do what she does. they reached the bend in the road and graham saw a donkey that apparently had been bred with an appaloosa. it was hitched to a whimsically-painted gypsy-style caravan cart. dennis clicked his tongue and the donkey brayed. "hee haw!" graham said, chuckling. he imitated the patient beast. "that's so funny!" "funny?" dennis said, pursing his lips. there were blisters forming in the corners of his mouth. "balthazar is the bomb. are you not?" he scratched the puff of black hair between his twitching grey ears and then reached in and yanked a carrot from his coat pocket like a magician pulls forth a handkerchief from thin air. balthazar munched it with meditative relish. "this is a cool set-up," graham said, admiring the cart. it was the size of a small car and had small windows on both sides. painted with lines of bright colors, it reminded graham of something he himself would have imagined. "get in," dennis browne said. 101019 ... crowli the tiger king sat as still as a statue while he surveyed old molly's nine year old form making her way cautiously through the darkness of the maze. while he silently praised her for being resourceful and rather daring, given her age and the set of circumstances he’d presented to her, he was still berating himself for drunkenly passing out while he’d been challenging her. 'too much pinot again,' he thought to himself, sighing as he slid the silver band he wore on his left ring finger around and around in endless circles with his right thumb and forefinger. his love had awakened him just in time, and molly had not been harmed, but even though he knew he had crossed a line himself, he set his guilt aside. teaching molly was like treading water with broken limbs, and painfully saving a life needed a little numbness from time to time. one of the tiger king's ultimate planned outcomes for old molly had actually already been realized, however, and he chuckled to himself at the way things always just seemed to "work out" in his favor. he often wondered if it was his own pure dumb luck or if he had someone watching over him from above. molly had realized that she had trusted improperly. and she had learned. she had been warned to be careful, but yet she had still chosen the path of pleasure and delight over sensibility and responsibility, and therefore essentially she got what she deserved. to be afraid. molly had recklessly fallen into darkness twice now because of her waywardness, both times involving graham, and now the tiger king had her exactly where he wanted her....alone, afraid, and lonely. and above all, molly needed him. he had felt her pull; heard her cry, felt her need. and he had to acknowledge that his ego thrived upon being needed by all of his girls. there was one small problem, however. his beloved white bengal, bianco, had escaped during his drunken debacle, and the dangerous cat, after having crossed the bridge into another familiar world, had stealthily stalked and subsequently bitten molly and graham's beloved kufraya. the careful balance had now been upset, the pendulum had swung, and graham, though he had fallen once in the name of frivolity, had been doing so well up to now. at least he had been until he’d entered into the sphere of none other than dennis browne. and beyond what was occurring in graham’s world, his queen was gone. the tiger king knew had extra work to accomplish now, and reassured for the time being that molly was relatively safe as she made her way toward the center of the giant maze, he bid her a voiceless farewell, and disappeared into the night. meanwhile, molly swept her flashlight back and forth across the ground, and taking care to stay in the center of the path, she slowly moved forward. she had the distinct sense that she was walking in circles, but she had astutely begun to count her steps each time she saw the sliver of moon reappear into her field of vision. she knew that the moon was moving as well, but she still could tell that her sphere was getting smaller. and she felt an indescribable presence pulling at her. she was walking into something important... she believed that with every fiber of her being. ‘am i going to finally find the center?’ she questioned herself. ‘i hope he is there...the tiger king will lead me out of this mess...i know he will.’ after seemingly walking for hours, molly’s legs felt as heavy as leaden bricks, yet just as the jagged claws of sleep began to tug at her red-rimmed eyelids, the sun peaked its loveliness above the horizon. she could still only see the green foliage that surrounded her, but her visibility improved significantly as the light of the sky changed from darkness into fiery orange. suddenly the grassy path changed to cobblestones. molly quickened her pace in anticipation, and was rewarded with quite the spectacle when the stone path opened up into a quaint little clearing. she had reached what she thought was the center of the maze, and it was in and of itself, another circle. in its center was a hexagonal gazebo that looked to be carefully constructed from grey and brown flagstones and rough hewn timber, capped with a red copper roof that glinted in the morning sunshine. it was completely surrounded with rose bushes that held multiple hues of every variety of rose. molly moved toward the gazebo and quickly ascended the three stone steps that ostensibly invited her to come inside. there were overstuffed down sofas and chairs covered with blue and white gingham arranged in front of the largest outdoor stone fireplace molly had ever seen. a fire burned heartily as though it had just been laid for her. music filtered in from some unknown source, surrounding molly with its soothing beat and reminding her of a tropical steel drum band she and graham had loved to dance to in his basement back at home. molly had never been so exhausted, and though she was slightly disappointed that no one was around to welcome her to this beautiful place, she decided to take the opportunity to at least get some rest before she continued her journey. ‘perhaps someone will come.’ she wondered as she flopped onto one of the sofas. ‘where are you tiger king?’ molly closed her eyes and took in a breath, and blowing it out with a smile and a shrug, she laid her head back into the pillow and fell into a dreamless nap immediately. it was however short lived. she felt a tiny tickle across her hand, and molly instinctively swiped at it with her other hand, thinking it was a bug. she did not find a bug, however. molly’s fingers touched fur, and her eyes flew open when she heard gentle purring of a cat. to molly’s astonished surprise, however, this was much more than a cat, for there before her, sniffing her cheek inquisitively with its curious moist, shiny pink nose, was a stunningly adorable black and tan striped tiger cub. “oh! look at you!” molly exclaimed with delight, and automatically, albeit fearlessly she held both hands out for him to sniff. “are you my welcoming committee?” she asked expectantly. the apparently tame little creature ignored her gesture of friendship however, and opted instead to jump into her lap and lick her chin. 101019 ... cr0wl graham, cradling kufraya in his left arm against the fleece of his soiled patagonia jacket, opened the door of the gypsy cart, pulling down on a copper handle infused with turquoise oxidation. he slid across the cracked leather single seat. his senses were assaulted all around him. first it was the stench of body odor mixed with smoke, cinnamon, red earth, and menthol. then there was a rotting food odor competing with the delicate fragility of dried flowers. he did not feel like wretching. somehow it smelled like a garbage dump, acceptable, yet still offensive. all around him was stuff and junk. a seashell with words. a rusty tin can lid scribbled with crayon. hawk feathers. bird's nests. is that a rabbit leg? a fair-sized high definition video screen was playing luca guadagnino's, lush, atmospheric film, "i am love." a laptop computer rested on a pull out wooden table. there were recessed shelves full of books, games, various trinkets and plinkets, bottles of some kind of golden liquid, and a framed photograph of dennis browne as a young man with his arm around ver boten, his love. dennis entered and turned the film off and then lifted up to open the sun roof. he pushed through and clacked his tongue with a deep sucking against the roof of his mouth. balthazar the donkey lunged forward. the two large wooden-spoked wagon wheels, each spoke individually painted with gypsy tribe indication creaked into movement. "andiamo!" dennis shouted. he coughed twice. bathazar picked up the pace. dennis sat down. "well, here we are," dennis said, looking over at graham. kufraya swallowed and jerked her head around, focusing on the open window. graham smiled, his peeling lips upturned like a watermelon rind. he was surprised how smooth the ride was and as dennis clicked on the audio player and as some english beat filled the silence, he couldn't help but think of times he spent with his own father. dennis reached out and stroked kufraya's neck, admiring the sheen of her feathers in the filtered sunlight pouring in from the ceiling. "she looks like everything i can't have." dennis said, wistfully. he leaned forward and grabbed a bottle of the golden liquid and undid the latch of its porcelain cap. he lifted it to his nose and graham watched his chest rise with fragrant breath. he smelled licorice. dennis then placed his lips on the thick-glassed mouth of the bottle and tipped it. the liquid flowed into his thirsty throat like water swallowed by the parched ground. graham thought of the way he used to see his father kiss his mother. when he was done, he wiped the wetness with his greasy coat sleeve and offered the bottle to graham. "cobbies?" he asked. graham rose an eyebrow. is that what the stuff is called, he wondered. graham didn't really know why, but he accepted the bottle, even though for one moment, he felt his mouth forming the word no. it sat at the back of his throat where it melted into nothingness. he took a healthy swig. it tasted like medicine, but only better with a mellow aftertaste and a growing appreciation, as if he could take another sip at least. and he did. he felt the hot liquid slide like lava into his stomach. the pompeii of his innocence was devastated. this was his first drink. is that magic dust? he suddenly thought. there was a numbness creeping into his brain and a tingling sensation spreading throughout his limbs like birds gathering in a tree, buzzing like electricity. dennis browne had taken a handful of powdered aluminum and tossed it in the space around graham's head. "welcome to my world!" he yelled. he took the bottle from graham and chugged. "ha!" dennis laughed, slapping both knees with his filthy hands. 101021 ... crowli the queen closed the book unceremoniously and opened molly's bag to toss it inside.   "wait a minute, give that back to me!" molly said, her voice crackling hoarsely in stunned surprise as she greedily snatched the book from the queen's elegant french manicured fingertips. molly hadn't meant to be disrespectful, and so she cleared her throat impatiently and mumbled an apology.  eager to share what she had discovered with the beautiful stranger, she waited expectantly for approval and got it before she spoke again.  the butterfly queen nodded almost imperceptibly, however one would have thought she had turned on a spigot, as molly started gushing explanatory words as though she was spouting scalding running water. she had opened mg to the last page and waved the book in front of the queen's face like a banner of hope in a peace demonstration. "would you just look at this, it’s changed! the picture has changed! it's my kufraya! oh, my beautiful bird….and that’s graham….oh, god graham….you’re okay…..he’s found her!" molly's words poured forth excitedly, and barely able to contain her delight, she continued with her babbling outburst as the queen curiously watched.   molly had seen the chapters of mg change too many times to count, but this time.....this change was a very big deal.  she and graham had come to find out that the mysterious book, mg, was chock-filled with words and illustrations describing the adventures of their lives within the parallel world they'd found together years ago. the odd thing about mg however, was that the book endlessly changed as the two of them crossed bridges between worlds, and thus the beginning and end of the chronicle were continuously altered by what happened within the heart of their story.   molly had always kept a copy of it with her because it helped her to feel close with graham when they were not together. their time apart had become prolonged this time. they’d been separated before, yet they’d always found ways to communicate with each other. even as kids, they had developed ways to leave each other cryptic messages. it was their way.   it was their secret.   when graham had gone without warning, the pain from not just his absence but also the abruptness of his departure had cut her hard and deep. his words were her lifeline it seemed, and he had so often told her that he felt the same way that she couldn’t help but wonder if she had unknowingly crossed an invisible line and driven him away.   molly did not notice the butterfly queen’s painted lips twitching with hidden pleasure as she quietly observed molly while endeavoring to appear interested and surprised. molly’s cheeks grew pink with enthusiasm.  'is that love i see in her eyes?' the queen wondered, feeling an unexpected twinge of longing for her man. 'i see so much of myself in her.' she thought to reach out to molly once again, but abstained from another gesture of maternal familiarity lest molly begin to ask questions she was ill prepared to answer. at least for now.     molly had literally just flipped through the worn, dog-eared pages of mg a few hours before sunset, and when she had reached the last page, she’d found the same pen and ink drawing that had been there for what seemed like months on end. it really had still been there. and it was definitely not graham with kufraya. it was the detailed rendition of her and graham's fall through the tiger king’s enchanted doorways at hawksworth, and the picture was as indelibly etched into that last page as it was engraved upon her memory. in the drawing, graham was depicted as if he was taking a deep breath in preparation for embarking upon an amazingly exciting adventure. in stark contrast, however the sketch had captured molly’s face exactly as she recalled feeling at that very moment.   a chilling mix of ecstasy, confusion and terror.   she and graham had been so excited to get to the carnival that they had engaged in a silly game to pass the time, not realizing that while everything seemed easy, free and fun, that there was danger lurking within the challenge they had presented each other with. they had opened the tricky doors willingly and without considering the consequences carefully, and had recklessly fallen into the dangerous traps set by the tiger king. 'had it been his plan to separate them?'    each time molly had studied that illustration of the two of them, she wondered the same two things: why had they not considered the inherent risk of merely turning the handles, let alone opening the doors? and more important than that, if they had been willing to take such a risk, why hadn’t they chosen the same door for just that once and fallen together?   molly had clutched the book to her chest, and unable to wipe the smile that had stretched across her face, she was pacing back and forth frenetically as her mind struggled to process the fact that her world was possibly, finally trying to right itself.   her graham was okay! molly had absently set down the book, and under the light of the moon and the stars, she allowed her thoughts to escape and be heard. the queen picked up the worn book and flipped it open once again to the last page, allowing her gaze to rest upon the characters depicted. at first glance she had thought the man in the rendering was her king in disguise, however her brow furrowed and her shoulders stiffened when she realized who had befriended graham. it was that deplorable dennis browne.  "if graham found kufraya, he will send her to find me....we taught her to 'home' a long time ago. do you know what this means?” molly asked the queen, piercing her eyes keenly, yet not intending to allow her to answer before she made her point. “it means---” "STOP!" the queen commanded, cutting her off with her voice just a thread above a whisper, yet authoritative enough to silence molly. "don't jump to conclusions, molly." "am i jumping to the conclusion that you are the wife of the tiger king?" molly asked poignantly, unwilling to let go of the possibility she dreamed of. "couldn't you please take me to him?"     molly and the queen studied the drawing intently together, each of them sharing the vision of the boy, the man and the beautiful bird....and a very peculiar looking gypsy cart. "who is the guy that graham is with?" molly asked. the butterfly queen admired molly's perception, and rewarded her with a broad albeit short lived smile before answering her question with a shaking head and an unsettling statement. "that guy, baby girl, represents everything i never wanted for your graham. he is dennis browne." "THE dennis browne?" molly shrieked, remembering the romantic part of a story she and graham had read when they'd been too young to understand his unsavory ways. "yes." the queen uttered, and her voice suddenly sounded strangled in her throat. "the dennis browne. now come baby girl, we must go for we have much to catch up on and things to accomplish."  101021 ... . mg_08 101023 what's it to you? who go blather from