Notes - natural entertainment / clarification / The Dead - 7 completed

         1047 hours. On the balcony. Another pleasant morning with blue sky and few clouds, the half moon is still at about 35 degrees off the horizon. We saw a couple of dolphin yesterday and today, both times they were heading north, about 120 yards from shore, juveniles from their looks and size with forging rather than frolicking behavior. Sometimes the joy is color and the continually timed waves thumping into a snuggle and absorption on a narrow strip of shoreline. Wet on dry, sounds like Aristotle or Anaximenes (the basic conditions: hot, cold, wet, dry) to me. 1104, six dolphin sighted, three heading north and three coming south. Both pods frolicking. It looks like one adult in each pod. Very cool. They are within a hundred yards of one another. The pod coming south is within fifty yards -- thirty -- they are about to meet. The six are gathering around one another. Now they are all heading north. Most cool. Now the pod is heading south -- more like they are in a playground area. The pods are separating, three heading south that had come north and the ones with the meet and greet are heading back north. Tails were up and out frolicking in circles.

         Nothing like enjoyable natural entertainment. Post. - Amorella
   

         You had a surprise dinner at the Conch Republic with Linda, Bill, Jean and Jen. You bought dessert for all, a sharable Banana Foster. - Amorella

         2019 hours. I have completed The Dead - 7, at least I assume it is in near final draft stage.

         Close enough, boy. Tomorrow we work on Brothers-7. Add and post. - Amorella

          Point of clarification. Vivian is not based on either of my two muses (who are real life friends) nor is Vivian, as will be seen, Merlyn's muse. The fictional basics of Merlyn's and Vivian's love is based on a very a famous Medieval love story between teacher and student. This concept was developed earlier in my notes in the last year or so. Such is the world that I am more comfortable having to mention this than not. - rho

The Dead - 7 (draft 4, nfd)

         Merlyn stands by the chair rock in his sanctuary and turning to his west, looks through the heather and between oak and birch to the cold river water. He conjures lifelong memories of fishing from such rivers. I see exciting flashes of great catches of salmon, trout, northern pike and arctic charr. The size, shape and colors of the many fish quickly slide away. They are but bait for memories grab at those many daydreams while on those fishing days. Youthfully fantasies stirred my body's male nature through lonely and sometime surreal surroundings hot kettled in my budding druidic heartanmind. What be the name that is alphabetized first, Vivian. We are such human creatures of familiar habits -- toys we are to one another whether in embrace or no. Such souls as we dance within our heartsanminds so close we are that might we share sanctuaries unknown to one another, especially in such a place as this bridge from deadanliving to the living.

         The billiard table rises. Merlyn stares at the bunched balls near the side rail. The yellow one sets to the left of the orange striped thirteen and the purple striped twelve ball. To the right of the striped are three solids, the blue two, green six and maroon seven. What is the meaning of how these balls lay, he wonders. Am I like the ancient Greek prognosticator stirring up the recent entrails of intention within my romantic mind or an astrologer looking at the alignment of billiard ball rumination rather than the cognation behind this illusionary table of the mind. Yet what am I to see in this would be reflected as a vision by any other name but my own.

         "You are captivated by my presence, Merlyn," said Vivian in a clearly suggestive voice."

         It is as though she were facing me within this intimate interval with my heart alone, thought the one time Celtic sorcerer and bard.

         "Which of these vividly hued balls would you have me be when I am more myself as the table on which to dress your endearingly passionate contemplations -- no need of cue stick or balls with me, my dear man," winked this enlightened, shrewd and otherwise foxy tailed apparition of Merlyn's first known woman of druidic stature.

         'My dear man,' those were the last words Vivian said to me in life, the last ones I heard with my own ears. Merlyn felt his ears grow into substance, as those words were re-heard. Viv's words from my heart, of that I am sure.

         "This is not so, Merlyn," whispered a voice he was positive was conscience. His ears grew surrounding substance and he felt the facial muscles material. He looked left towards his privacy hut realizing in the effortlessness of the task that he had no mirror. Those Living do not realize the importance of a mirror; there is no such reflection reserved for us the Dead. Even among the Living I cannot be seen nor can I see myself other than by contemplation. I now feel my physical body grown into substance but I have no proof. I have no witness other than a close friend's word.

         "We are attached, my love," she press her warm lips lightly against the flesh of his right ear and whispered seductively, "We are as married souls."

         Merlyn carefully turned his head away from his natural abode and composed his tongue to say, "How do you mean these words?" The wonder roared through his mind and heart as his body appeared to ice, 'She has me still in an enchantment.'

         "Our souls are twinned not intertwined. You used to say our love was but a thread entwined many times over, solidified by our experiences and memories together, but you were wrong though the word 'entwined' was partially correct." Vivian gave another quick press of her warm moist lips on his now equally warm ear. "I am but thy soul's sister in the gift of love's giving. I am here bonded, we both are holding hands."

         I evaporate from ice to a spiritual air alone, observed Merlyn. I, the once master, am taught a new lesson by my once student. Vivian exists here with-on-me, with-beside-me, but not within me. Ringed souls we are, a link in a timeless chain. These spiritual passageways are as webbed tunnels of connection and affection now better known. For what uses was this in secret told. It would seem to make no difference among we the Dead, but among the Living such a twinning of spidery soul may stretch around the world as invisible as was the biophysics of DNA not so long ago.

- 774 words

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