R.S.V.P.
|
Slimeworld & Galaxy Magazine -- All rights reserved -- |
|
Chapter LVII
by General (Uncle Claude) Xxaxx
& General (E.J. Gold) Nunan PFC 1st Class Ret.
Sneaking an astral peak at their bugs in a jar, the bosspersons were treated to a view of nothing more than three collapsed forms, empty husks devoid of life as if every drop of energy has been erased for every pore of their bodies.
In the inner world where Woo, Ja Mere and Little Roy floated, morphology within morphology, the scene was very different.
Woo and Ja Mere recognize this space easily. This is the where that they visited so long ago today.
This time there was a difference. With them was the goober, Little Roy. The swirling cluster of pink and blue luminescence were now vibrant pulsars of light dangling on the end of an immense strand of force stretching from Little Roy to each of the blue and pink self-luminous lights.
Reaching forth, Woo-JaMere struck a five stringed cord. The notes of the chord individually reminded Woo of Joey Boy, Fred Dee, John Nee, Di Anne and Little Roy. Together they made the starting chord to another song, one that is yet to be played.
Little Roy has little mass — a mere wisp of a form. What he lacks in mass, he more than makes up in affinity.
Woo has little or no affinity. Having given up even herself in the final analysis, she was the infinite mass of stillness and silence.
Ja Mere had neither mass nor affinity to call upon as allies. What he did have was duty. Ja Mere had a sense of duty that would extend beyond time and through the trackless void between creations.
These were the ingredients that providence has brought together into this one very strange brew. Mass, affinity and duty.
“But what of your blackened children?”
“Who asks?”
“Know one.”
“Don’t you mean no one?”
“No, it is said as it should be, Know One. We are the force of non-we. We lust for the dissolution of boundaries separating one from another.”
“What boundaries, are we not one?”
“What of your blackened children?”
In the force of repetitious questioning, Woo could see a million trails of blackened smoke rising from the midst of the swirling pink and blue lights.
“Why are you banishing what is you into not you?”
With sudden insight, Woo-Ja-Roy responds, “That is the weakness and dross left over from the future forging of my mettle.”
“Is there not only yourself with which to make the world? Is there not only yourself out of which to make the world? When Kali was ripped from the side of God and sent into eternal exile, she vowed her revenge upon the light — her only love. Her only desire was for union — her only desire betrayed her.”
“I haven’t denied union.”
“Have you not? Where are your welcoming arms?”
With this, Woo-Ja-Roy realized that she-he had denied the blackened dross, the life force of the bosspersons, a home within herself. The temptation for cleanliness was too great. She-he had lusted after purity. With her lust for purity, she had excluded the blackness from the creation that she-he was to become.
“The equation cannot balance if you deny your denying force. Reconciliation is the play of light and dark.”
With this, Woo-Ja-Roy’s turned her fierce blazing beacon of attention onto the swirling wisps of black smoke. Streams of compassion spread forth from her heart into the distance of time and space, enrapturing the pieces of herself that have been exiled into past and distance. So comforted, she drew them back into herself.
At the sacrifice of purity, Woo-Ja-Roy was whole again for the first time ever.
Considering the cruel single pointed search the bosspersons had laid for her, Woo forgave them, “How could I blame myself for hunting myself?”
Pulling them back into herself, black dross known in time and space as bosspersons, was transformed into primordial energy. From somewhere came a blinding flash of heat — a heat beyond fusion. In one great release of heat from the transformation of billions of field anomalies into free flowing electrical waveforms, a great laugh is released from the depths of eternity — the only appropriate response to cosmic irony, levity.
This story is published to be read. Include html reference to this stories to your hearts content. But if you wish to include this story in any form of publication you must first obtain our express permission in writing.
|
R.S.V.P.
|
Slimeworld & Galaxy Magazine -- All rights reserved -- |
|