We formed a straight, then curvy, then jagged line as we passed another Baby high up in a Pine tree, looking out while I was looking in, bits of poetry forming in my mind that I threw at the scene, scattered like clues for the detectives to find.
The poisonous grip of the mountain is loosening, but like any detox there are feelings of grief– Now we’re exposed, there’s talk of needing protection, and of going to Mexico, where whatever money we have left will last a lot longer.
How tripped out is it that it can be a day like any other when suddenly, out of the blue, tragedy strikes and nothing is ever the same again? It sends you reeling, grasping at the details of an ordinary life... I know what it’s like to be finally and firmly on the outside of everything.
Will the act of me walking through the tunnel bring him out? Will he appear in the guise of my own face’s reflection in the sheen of water that covers the walls inside? ... Will he be there, in the syncing up of the simulacrum and my awareness of it as such?
How genius is it that these extradimensional beings are appearing in our own world as a simple tab in the daily workflow on our screens, a combination of a pet and an assistant to whom we pose questions.
He held up the glass eyeball he’d been methodically smoothing by hand, balancing it delicately between his middle and ring finger, like a magician about to do a trick.
Now the full extent of my carelessness and conceit was made apparent as Lil Mountain and I fell to the floor–my deer tail and lizard teeth necklace rattling like an exquisitely worded curse.
It was such a Babies thing to do–watching movies in the forest in the winter. WTF. Could they see me up here? Would they be able to help? But then I reminded myself I was here to help them. Save them even.
But as far as I know I’m the only one who took a direct hit. The Babies saw Behemoth, they caressed and polished him in awe, but once it was determined that he didn’t work, they quickly lost interest. I know it’s only a matter of time before they rediscover him.
far out on the invisible mountain
Since the time with Behemoth, I’ve lost the ability to discern a certain stratum of details. While none of these are of crucial importance in and of themselves, taken together they contribute to a general sense of being ungrounded.