Whirlwind thoughts slammed hard… her disgusting father was dead, her loving, although distracted mother was dead, her baby was dead… she disembarked, actually fell, onto Brigadoon without the culture and grace of the bird who brought her there.
Zenobia slowly crept toward Allie, who was now facedown and unconscious; everything was about to begin.
Written by Edward Roads
Stave IV
The earth and the sea seemed to pause as Allie approached the cut off spectre of, well… where…. and for some reason she couldn’t shake the thought of something called Dock 19.
As the giant grey spotted sea bird circled Brigadoon to locate the drop point, Allie remembered a seated, cordial man when she first arrived at that mysterious shore… humungous table… yes, yes… Shill was his name.
Written by Edward Roads
Allie Carraig sat strong on the custodial sea bird, a peculiar and undigestable thought to be sure, as if she knew it was supposed to be beneath her… but how could that be?
In the glide of moments, she suddenly remembered the laborious harrow of the buckwheat, but it wasn’t like before, it was just a passing memory… then, for the first time since she woke, the fulcrum of the dizzying flight leveled.
Written by Edward Roads
(Slumber / historical visions / etches in table) How come when I pause to listen to the nothing, I feel like I am going to fall out of myself… that’s the last thought she had when she finally came out of the hypnotic miasma beneath her opening eyes.
Allie was never one to blench, perhaps a result of her foul father… (she was unaware she twitched) but the redoubtablely deep darkness lying ahead, beyond an unassuming moonlit sea, was for all intents and purposes, a welcomed place.
Written by Edward Roads
…and suddenly there he was, the mystical and lost Buddy Bolden; cornet on lips, Boller slightly forward, yet upon you… and a sly, slick sound most couldn’t and would never be able to describe, until later… Allie’s dreaming eyes rolled beneath her wind burned lids and thoughts inevitably turned to that god forsaken beach table.
The enormous spotted gray sea bird continued cruising only inches above the ocean line toward the place that she, Zenobia, had long ago proclaimed Brigadoon… preparations had once again begun.
Written by Edward Roads
Mytwosentences 