Late Sunday afternoon. You have got through
the day with very little back pain and hope this continues. This afternoon,
after classic lunches at the Grand Oriental (I-71 and Fields-Ertel Road) you,
Carol and Linda took a forty to fifty minute drive and crossed the Little Miami
River four times. Once home Carol and Linda took a longer walk in Rose Hill
Cemetery. You sat and watched the concluding episodes of the second season of "The
Man in the High Castle" on Amazon Prime. Everyone is having leftovers from
lunch for supper. Such is your day so far. - Amorella
1751 hours. We have had good but cooler weather today and after lunch I
decided to have the car washed at nearby Mike's. A cleaned car and a semi-sunny Spring
day made it ideal for a traditional Sunday drive just like our immediate
ancestors did.
You have just completed the
near final draft of Chapter Seventeen. Add below, and post. - Amorella
2146 hours. I am not sure this makes sense, Amorella. Soki takes a
somewhat parallel projection hinted in the story itself and sets it on a tilt.
It doesn't take away from the story here but it doesn't add anything either. I'll
add the chapter but I have reservations. These chapters have to have a string
of contextual logic to them for readers to make sense of the whole.
Why should this be when human being can look
into a mirror naked, for example and honestly and sincerely ask themselves why?
This is what being human is about from my, the Amorella's, perspective. As the
character Spock might say, "A piece of logic does not make the day."
***
Seventeen,
nfd ©2017,rho
Untitled
Dusk,
the same day. Friendly sits in a chair at the dark walnut round table. The
others quickly adjust to their seats. Friendly looks to her immediate left and
sees Blake, and Yermey sits in the chair beyond. To Friendly's immediate right
is Justin with Hartolite sitting beyond. To Yermey's left and Hartolite's right
sits Pyl who is closest to facing Friendly directly.
"Where's
Ship?" asks Friendly, and Yermey pulls what appears to be a small
translucent marble from his right trouser pocket and places it near the center
of the table.
Blake
and the others watch as the now white-as-paper round marble lifts slightly and adjusts
to the exact table center equidistance from the surrounding people. It rises to
the average height and size of the sitting humanoid species and takes the outer
shape of a globular mirrored through holographic tricks, observes Blake. Each
person appears to be looking at Ship's iconic face directly.
"I
am ready, Captain Friendly," says Ship.
Friendly
speaks more formally, "Thank you. In a few minutes,
Ship-O-My-Mothers."
'Polite
form in flight,' reckons Ship. He replies. "Ready when you are, Captain
Friendly, crew and honored guests."
Justin
wonders, why don't you call Ship 'SOMM' or SOMM 10, a name of some kind? Ship
is so generic.
Blake
reasons, these people are too polite. This may be a set up though he
intuitively smiles towards Hartolite who immediately mirrors his.
We
hardly know you people, considers Pyl. We were in casual conversation and I was
feeling good but when this Ship Machine speaks I get goose bumps on my shoulder
blades. Pyl eyeballs her husband silently conveying help me out here.
Yermey,
looking across at Justin, scans the table. He grins like he is sitting
comfortably in the middle of a joke and comments, "The point of this
little production is for your entertainment, nothing more. We want you to feel
at ease on board, but perhaps we should play a game of cards or dominoes with
some refreshments instead."
"We can do that,"
says Friendly casually, "then you three can get a good night's sleep and
tomorrow we can go for a short ride."
Blake's
eyes light like a three-year-old and the excitement measures in his voice,
"You are going to take us around the world as if we were in the space
station. That would be awesome. I don't even know how high we are."
"We
could be on the Moon as far as we know," echoes Justin grinning,
"Where do you think we are, Pyl?"
"Good
idea," says Hartolite. "A guessing game. Where do you think we
are?"
"Each
guess, then we'll show you," laughs Friendly. "I'm sure you are all
wondering."
"We
could be sitting in a warehouse somewhere on Earth," comments Blake.
"Or,
really on the Moon," adds Justin secretly hoping it is so.
"I
think we are hovering at eighty to ninety-thousand feet," says Pyl,
feeling comfortable toying with the others. "Where are we Captain
Friendly?"
"Good
call," responds Friendly. "We are in Earth atmosphere at
seventy-thousand feet, hovering over Cleveland, Ohio. Straight down are your
Rock and Roll Museum and the Great Lakes Science Center."
Yermey
adds, "It sounds like the two men would like a short ride with the window
shades up. Shades are down because we are in Blackanot. We cannot be detected
outwardly by Earth built electronics or human sight."
"Besides,"
explains Hartolite, "we thought it might be disorienting to have the
windows up. We would be happy to give you a short ride." With a twinkle in
her eye she adds, "You'd like that wouldn't you Justin?"
"We
nearly out of the atmosphere and I never felt a thing," says Pyl.
"You
and Blake are experienced pilots, but Justin is not. He does not enjoy flying
like you two," comments Friendly in a matter-of-fact manner.
"Is
this true, Justin?" asks Pyl. She observes his small sheepish grin.
"It is. Why didn't you tell us you are afraid of flying?"
"I'm
fine,” grumbles Justin. “Friendly is right though, I do get apprehensive. I
trust you and Blake when flying, but I don't trust the plane. Planes crash and
sometimes for reasons not clear."
Ship
adds, "You are safer up here with us than you are on your own planet,
Justin."
"Let's
go to the dark side of the moon for some sight-seeing, declares Friendly.
By
the time the shades filter for the best of human eye viewing the six find
themselves silently witnessing the dark side. Smiles all around and no one
utters a word. What can anyone say in such a first real time human
experience?
.
Hello, says the Soki. The dark side is not
a side at all. From a soul's perspective light and dark are unimaginable. If
one has no eyes color does not come up. Imagine a human-eating soul whose shape
is controlled by a color; for instance, a circle is blue and a square is red. Now
imagine that color means Fate. This means nothing unless you are a
'color', a shape the soul becomes. There are no apples and oranges comparisons
here.
You, heartanmind, alone are a destiny
for the soul. The human-eating soul understands the reality of the words,
"You Are What You Eat". It is not what you (heartanmind) are eating;
it is what is eating you. The dark side, so to speak, is not night or day. The dark side is not evil from a human
spirit's perspective, not when digested in a soul. A mellow sense of contentment
permeates when a human-like heartanmind are physically dead. The feeling is
"this is a state I have always been in and never noticed it before."
No moons for the Dead; no suns either. Being dead is real first-time human
experience too.
***
77.1 reading ease; 5.2 grade level; 965 words
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