mg_09 crOwl "dude...what the fuck?!" graham yelled, yanking off the leather helmet. the screen was blank. "i was just going to kiss her!" dennis browne, his head tilted back, drained his second bottle and tossed it out the window. he ignored graham's whining and abandoned his place at the magic modpod. "shut up," he said, slurring his words. they were accompanied by a stern insistence that caught graham off guard. kufraya, who had fallen asleep on his lap, woke startled, and swallowed twice with nervousness. her beady, black eyes settled on dennis's jerky, but quiet agitation. "we've got a fucking problem." balthazar had brought the gypsy cart to a halt and so dennis stood straight up and surveyed the situation through the sunroof. graham watched him remove his dilapidated straw fedora and run his grimy hands through his thinning strands of greasy grey hair. "fucking christ!" dennis mumbled under his toxic breath. graham could barely hear him. "what's the matter?" he asked, staying where he was. he brought his half full bottle to his lips in an unconscious effort to assuage his worry. dennis browne put his hat back on. he ignored graham's obvious concern and bent down to open a narrow, recessed closet. he removed a shotgun, deftly sprung open its oily chamber and snatching two shells from a cardboard box on the interior shelf, inserted them, shut the casing, and pumped the gun to ready. "holy christ! graham yelled. "what's going on?" kufraya struggled to escape and graham had to squeeze her tight. he could feel the natural power of her wings pressing against his hands like water threatening to burst. "stay right there," dennis hissed. "we have an unwelcome visitor. "don't let that red bird fly the coop!" graham felt a wave of oblivion descend upon him, a creeping numbness that challenged his sense of awareness. "who is out there?" he shot forth, and sat bolt upright beside him. "i want to see!" "sit the fuck down!" dennis browne yelled, pushing him back to his seat. kufraya let out a garbled shriek. seconds later, through a foggy haze of restricted frustration and increasing delirium, graham watched, as if in slow motion, dennis rising up into the sunroof, raise the shotgun to aim, and then the sickening explosion of the shot as it rang forth, echoing like someone's disgust for the inability to understand the trapped brain. kufraya struggled with near desperation at the thundering blast. "fucking right." it was all dennis browne said and graham knew whatever or whoever was out there was dead. he clicked his tongue and balthazar took off again along the lonely woodland road, inches thick with a carpet of fallen leaves. as dennis browne returned the shotgun to the closet, graham, his ears ringing, stood and balanced himself to the resumed movement. holding kufraya tight against his chest he looked with bemused wonder out the sunroof to see what had happened. a white, stripeless tiger lay dead on the road. 101027 ... cr0wl as graham sat back down, stroking kufraya's feathers in an instinctive attempt to gain some sense of calm for her and himself after the sudden attack, he leaned back into the leather seat and closed his eyes. he did not speak for a long time, allowing the gentle movement of the donkey-pulled cart to ease him into a renewed sense of peace. dennis browne fired up his corn cob pipe and handed it to him. graham opened his eyes. he had been daydreaming about snow falling. "cheer up, there's always going to be something that tries to stop you," he said, a thick column of smoke exiting his mouth like a fire-breathing dragon. it filled the tight confines of the gypsy cart with a sweet, musty smell that enticed graham to desire more of it. he accepted the offering and partook with a soulful rebellion, having set kufraya down on the seat. she had settled into a fitful rest, shutting her lids, and then opening them again at the slightest movement. he felt the burning enter his lungs and fill them, air into a released balloon, rising higher and higher into a cloudless sky until only a dot remains and then poof, it's gone. it relaxed him immediately and returned him to his earlier state of oblivious contemplation. "where are we going?" he asked, not really caring. "who the fuck knows?" dennis browne. "all roads lead somewhere." "i thought you said you knew someone who could treat kufraya?" "people tell each other things all the time just so they can get what they want." "what do you want?" "someone to talk to." graham looked at dennis browne with what must have been an odd curiousity because it produced an explosive blast of laughter that caused him to spit out the swig of absinthe he had swirling along his palette of taste buds. "ha ha hah hh ah hah ha ha ah ah!" he shot forth. "i'm just fucking with you. we're almost to the coast. i've got a buddy who will get your bird in the air in no time. calm the fuck down." he wiped his mouth and pointed to the leather helmet on the leather seat. "put it back on," he said. "let's get you back inside molly's dream." 101028 ... crowli   molly thought the butterfly queen looked as though she was suspended in time as she slept.   her green and blue painted eyelids erratically twitched in harmony with the subconscious images that likely accompanied the dreamy rapid eye movement behind them. ‘perhaps she is dreaming of the tiger king,’ molly thought to herself, and then with a slightly sarcastic flair, she reiterated her wish out loud with a huff, “i wish she would freaking dream him into existence right here, right now….then maybe he’d help me find graham.”   the queen had rested her head on the soft down cushion, and the tufts of the feather-filled blue checks surrounded her golden hair, making her look like a peaceful angel in a butterfly disguise. molly was intrigued with her, especially with the mother-like mannerisms she demonstrated so naturally toward molly, yet she felt a twinge of guilt when she compared the butterfly queen to her own mother, who had never really shown her much affection beyond providing her the basic needs.   molly’s mother was a piece of work, critical and judgmental and to the core. her mom had perpetually wanted her to be something or someone she wasn’t, and after molly's repeated inability to comply had exhausted both of them, molly had begun to rebel, and her mother had grown more and more distant and inaccessible.   molly had learned to depend on herself after the years and years of trying to gain approval from her mother that had never come, and yet this beautiful stranger had accepted her and welcomed her without even really knowing her.   or did she?   ‘she said she knows me inside and out….’ molly considered to herself, shaking her head, still mystified at the familiarity of the woman.   as the deteriorating fire crackled and popped its last hurrah in the giant stone hearth, molly’s gaze was drawn to the thick pine mantle that adorned it. it was a massive piece of rough hewn timber, and on either end of it sat lit and dripping matching forest green pine cone shaped candles. in the center, however there was a colorful box of some sort that did not seem to fit in to the overall “look” of the rustic gazebo. molly became curious when she could not immediately discern what it was, and so she stood up quietly, taking care not to awaken the queen.   the woman did not stir.   as molly approached the fire and let its comfort envelope her, she felt her cheeks grow pink with the warmth it provided. she wrapped her arms around her midsection and swayed back and forth as she attuned herself to the music that filtered in from some unknown source. she caught a familiar lyric that reminded her of graham.   “we’re only human after all…hmmmm." molly repeated out loud. "we're human alright, but graham, baby, i hope you're okay." molly sighed. she was talking to herself again.   molly got a little closer to the mantle and felt the heat intensify all around her. she reached with one hand for the peculiar box, but as she went to slide it forward to pull it down, she was a little taken aback at its heaviness. it looked to be the size of a small cigar box, but it was surprisingly heavy. 'it must have something inside' molly reasoned.  ‘this is weird…’ molly thought, and tugged it with a calculated force. it did not move easily.   even more puzzled, molly stepped up onto the stone hearth, and taking the box into both hands, she pulled it toward her chest and carefully lowered it, holding its countenance securely to her body lest she drop it and make a commotion. she glanced back at the queen to make sure she was still sleeping, because though molly couldn’t quite figure out why she felt like she needed to be secretive, she felt a burning need to open the box.  and an equal desire to do it herself with no watchful eyes. molly carried the weighty treasure over to a small wrought iron table with a glass top and set it down. it clanked in angry protest against the glass despite her careful touch. she slid into one of the two accompanying chairs, and regarded the box. it was clearly made of wood, although not a single natural grain or wood color remained. it looked like it had been carved into a mosaic pattern of many different shapes. there were stars, circles, squares, letters, numbers and symbols she didn't recognize. similar to stained glass, each section was painted a different color. molly thought it looked like something graham would create. he was always "making something out of nothing."  she loved that about him.  there was no rhyme or reason to the design on the outside of the box, and so molly got to the task at hand, which was to open it up to see what was inside. she excitedly stuck her fingernail into the space where the lid met the base and attempted to pry it open, to no avail. and then she saw the keyhole. it was obscured at first by the deep red color its particular "section" was painted. it was very obviously a heart! and the hole...."look at that!" she shrieked.  molly stared openmouthed at the strange shape of the hole, and with no regard for the possibility of waking the queen, she loudly yelped, "MY KEY! oh my god....its the lock for my key!"  she stood up so quickly that the chair up-ended and crashed to the wooden floor, making such a ruckus that molly actually laughed. she ran over to the couch, grabbed her satchel that was next to the sleeping queen, and rummaged through it until she found what she had been seeking. the woman never moved. molly carefully regarded her special pen with the endless ink as she walked back to the table, and in one swift motion, she lifted the chair back upright and sat down. her heart was pounding in her chest, for she knew this was a monumental discovery. 'i was meant to be here.....meant to find this....' molly thought.  she inserted the key into the peculiar lock, and experienced a straight line memory to the strange key with which she and graham had opened the lock in the well so long ago.  just like that time, this key fit perfectly. molly was tingling all over with anticipation.   she turned the key and opened the lock.        101028 ... . mg_10 101029 what's it to you? who go blather from