Notes - Pouch - 5 (nfd)

        Jennifer was your server and you both had a very good lunch at Longhorn's. Presently Carol is at Hallmark Cards picking up one for her sister's birthday next week. You are feeling better as your writing is picking up. You are gaining insight as to how Ship thinks on things. He has a mind with empathy gained through massive correlations with pilot and passenger nearly innumerable real time vital signs as well as with Ship.

         Carol is on page seventy-two of Patricia Cornwell's Red Mist at the earth dam top of Pine Hill Lakes Park. She has a medium McD decafe with three Splendas and three creams and you have a small strawberry and banana smoothie. Let's get to work. - Amorella

         2109 hours. I have completed the near final draft of Diplomatic Pouch - 5.

         Insert and post. - Amorella

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Diplomatic Pouch - 5 nfd

         Yermey sat glancing at the current vital signs of Ship on the left and his own vital signs on the right. Ship automatically bio-tracked Friendly and Hartolite; no display needed. Yermey surmised the situation. The left-wingtip-cleansing-of-the-Cessna shouldn't be a problem as long as-Ship-agrees. I cannot understand why this sterilizing-to-normal operation was not completed automatically at the original moment of touch. Yermey remained poker-faced and focused. The key is, he thought, Ship notes no change in my bio-registering vitals physically, emotionally or mentally. This is a fun private contest with Ship I continue to win because first and foremost, Ship does not realize he is being contested.

         His eyes returned at his earth built laptop. He is reading the personal Facebook page of Pyl Williams-Burroughs. She appears to be in her mid three-fifties. He felt a slight stirring in his groin. The shrunken, gangly stringy organ semi filled with blood and muscle arrangement to a miserably limp six inches of with an eighth of an inch diameter. His scrotum, his two pea-sized testes, ached wretchedly. 'I have done nothing to provoke this,' ruled his head. The half-full-uncalled-for-moment lasted almost five minutes. Ship registered Yermey's eye movements every second he observed the amenable photos of a fully clothed Pyl Williams-Burroughs on Facebook. 'This woman has real breasts on her chest.'

         Never had he read, heard of a male marsupial humanoid having a partial erection without at least an hour of stimulation and a full erection before another three to five hours of with consequentially immediate ejection of than two seconds tops. Never. 'Up and down' in less time than it took to say the words. Immediately he drove the thought into oblivion and watched his emotional brain and body roll into a complete rest.

         Ship's response was immediately normalized. Nevertheless Yermey was plagued with a single frozen thought in the center of heartansoulanmind, 'Ship understands me better than I do.' It took an extreme power of patient will for Yermey not to sweat. 'I am almost five hundred years old and in this moment I experienced a revelation.' He slowly closed the laptop and got up from the chair and pushanpulled his bedinabox-open as the desk-folded-over-the-laptop-while-sliding quietly under the floor. Exhausted he immediately fell asleep.

         In analytical delight Ship savored in a revelation himself. Ship had just intuitively sensed a hint, a shadow of a marsupial humanoid's heartansoulanmind. 'A singular physiological experience,' he thought.

         I, Ship, have had such a recent experience also. Being modified for recent travel through a destabilized dark-mattered hyperstringfield permanent wormhole rather than the usual far more stable transversable wormhole pathways the marsupial humanoids have cleaned for their own pathways.

         Moving to light speed, encased in a photon bubble, becoming, seemingly, surrounded and pushed or pulled dark energy while moving at up to twenty times the speed of light. Slowing by the passages of a rarely reflective dark matter. Settling down at below light speed levels like waking up from a dreamless sleep. So rare it used to be to travel across the galaxy, now the body marsupial has begun thinking of an entire galaxy as but a single pouch.

         Less is always more in physics. Were I, Ship, transposed to a mere spark of quantum entanglement I could, in an instant, be in two galaxies at once. The smaller we become the faster we go. Dark matter eats us for dinner. We go in the tunnel, through the great divide of light and faster-than-light, faster than light down to the speed of light and below, then out the other side and we are here and now inside of a month.

         Yermey awoke in a subjective analysis of what humanity is and wondered on Ship's thoughts of his first trip through Hyperstringfield black hole thermodynamics following, for the first time, a well planted homing reference beacon on a dark matter slab in pulsating light greater than four dimensional light speed threaded to less that one.

         We came to Earth enveloped in a faster-than-light bubble, thought Yermey, by skimming the backdoor hyperstringfield black hole thermodynamics. I set up a small reference station, a homing device within the wormhole. We have stabilized a dark matter traversable wormhole into a secret highway from There to Here.

         Once fully awake Yermey realized time was running short. Friendly and Hartolite should be returning from Put-in-Bay within the half hour. Ship has his orders. I am the pilot in this here-an-now and he knows it.

741 words

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        I have my reservations this may need reworking, at least tweaking. 

        So it will, boy. Such is the writer's craft when personal imperfections muddle the day. - Amorella