Monday, June 26, 2017


The shapes keep swimming, shifting, blurring as soon as she looks at them. Sliding away from her gaze, like those amorphous things that float inside your eyes.

That first one is a four. Maybe. No, definitely.

But wait, it's a reflection, so it should be the other way around? Or is it? Does that mean four is the last number?

Night after night, never the same dream, always the same message - three numbers. Four and... nine? And... what?

Now they've become melting wax, now oil paint floating on a wind-driven pond, now wafting into the air like tissue paper. Or ash.

There must be a reason. She needs there to be a reason. She must be meant to remember them, that's the only explanation. The harder she tries to grasp at the memory, the quicker it slips free.

And the dream fades...

Sunday, June 18, 2017


There must be a pattern somewhere.

Everything has a reason, right? Nothing is actually random, not when people are involved.

There's a message here, has to be.

Something about how it's arranged, how one thing flows from another.

Was it inevitable? Frozen in place, the entire picture and path predetermined?

No. There were choices made.

But there it is, the pattern laid out for all to see. All who will look.

Perhaps only him.

Why try to figure it all out? Why not jut let it be what it is?

Things without all remedy should be without regard, what's done is done?

What was done.

Nothing can be changed now - not a single item added or removed. Everything welded in place.

Perhaps the whole thing would become clear if he had just one clue, a key to unlock the puzzle.

Perhaps if she'd said something.

Thursday, June 8, 2017


START TIME 13:44:40

"It's so beat up, and nobody could say it's pretty. Gawd, look at that face."

"Yes, sir, but it's still part of the protected historic architecture."

"I'm not saying to take it off, though that would be an improvement. Let's just drill out the eyes and put the cameras there."

"Sir, that would require permission just like mounting a conventional camera."

"We don't have to tell anybody! Do it at night, this street is empty after dark. The whole point is to make sure nobody notices the cameras."

"No, sir, we just can't do that. And anyway there's no need. Nobody looks for cameras any more. We have them above the doorway there, and there, plus the one on the corner. And the bank has two that cover the entire street."

"Hrmph, I suppose so. I guess I hadn't noticed the one over there before. Maybe it's enough to have three."

END TIME 13:46:03

Yes, sir. Three cameras. Three that you can see, and all the others you don't know about, and don't even bother looking for. We'll just keep it that way.

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Hidden Meanings

"Brother Mainard, why is there a three-circle decoration above the door to our Holy Place?"

"A fine question, Timmy. The lobes of the Triple Loop symbolize the division of life into labor, play, and rest; the vine inside binds them together into the Holy Work. Within each..."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, Brother, but I overheard your explanation. I'm afraid it's incorrect."

"What do you mean, Brother Larch? It comes directly from the Third Catechism of Dennis the Wise."

"Dennis was judged a heretic by the Thirteenth Committee at the Cleveland Conclave."

"When was this!"

"Last January."

"I, well, ah, I never heard anything."

"The Committee sent quite a few text messages right after the decision."

"Oh, yes. I usually run out of data halfway through the month. Probably missed them."

"You should speak with Brother Jackson."

"Does he have special knowledge of the Conclave?"

"No, he moonlights at the phone company. Got me a great deal with unlimited data and no contract."

"I see. But what did the Holy Texts say?"

"The symbol refers to the time we start our meetings, three in the afternoon."

"But we start our meetings at four."

"Daylight savings."

And thus Brother Mainard was enlightened.

Monday, May 22, 2017

It's a Solid Piece of Work

"I particularly appreciate the variation in texture. Exposing hidden conflict through varied material choices, while retaining the fundamental paradigm of the brick."

"I'm impressed by the intentional skewing, very Kandinsky-esque. Regular that becomes irregular, chaos seeping into the perfect geometry, embodying the failed pursuit of perfection."

"Well, yes, I agree with both of you, yet the strongest statement is made by his choice of location. He's perfectly matched these surroundings while maintaining the tension between artificial and natural. Were we in a grassy field the pretension would be overwhelming, whereas this urban setting requires the viewer to find the art *within* his art."

"Oh, hello! Sorry I'm late, had to park. Do you still have time to see my sculpture?"

"Well, young man, I think I can speak for the entire jury that we're very impressed by your work."

"Ah, um... did you? I mean, you already saw it?"

"Indeed, we've been discussing this installation at length."

"Ah, it's, umm, the hand? About ten feet tall, coming out of the ground? It's at the other end of the block."

"Oh! Well, I see. And, ah, what's this then?"

"The bricks? I think they're fixing the sidewalk."

Saturday, May 13, 2017


Oh, this is perfect.


Ow! Okay, ceiling is low, it's a little cramped, and it smells kinda funny. But I don't think anybody's climbed all the way up here in a long time. Probably nobody even knows this room exists.

Nice, if I stand over here I can peek out the little windows. Not much to see though.

They are going to look so hard but they'll never find me. Hide and seek champion!

Hmm. It could be a while, maybe I should have a candy bar or something. Wonder if I can sneak out to the vending machine?

Wait a minute. What the heck's going on with this door?

Why is there no handle on this side?

And what *is* that smell?

Friday, May 5, 2017

The Leash

"Mind control."

Not again. Every time he drinks...

"Don't shake your head. Look for the antennas. There's one right across the street, on the old office building.

"Of course, otherwise our phones won't work."

A look of sad condescension usually reserved for small children. "I've been reading. A lot. Stuff they don't want you to see."

"They who?"

"I don't want to say the names, not here."

"What? We're in a noisy bar. You seriously believe someone is spying on you?"

Silently pointing to the black slab at the edge of the table.

"My cellphone? It's spying on you?"

Emphatic nods.

"Okay, fine. Someone could hack my phone, but that doesn't mean they can control my mind through a radio antenna."

"You can't sense it. You don't even know it's happening. I'm serious. They've been doing this for so long, it's totally hidden. They're playing the long game."

"Okay, let's talk about something el..."  BRAAP BRAAP BRAAP "Oh, it's my boss. I have to take this."

"It's eleven o'clock at night. Do you really need to answer?"

"Yeah, you know how it is, work and all."

A sage nod. "Yes, I do know just how it is."