" Sigh. It was going to be a long
> >>day...
> The dust from the schoolbus gradually clears, revealing a lone figure
> (looking rather lost) standing on the lawn. Sourcerer ran to his Tower
> Suite at the first glimpse of a figure in the dustcloud, just in case,
> and a few punks glare at the new arrival. He's a .EDU, and wearing a name
> tag that reads "Zeitgeyser":
Sourcerer leans over the widows walk...hmmmmmm...it gave him a fright for
a moment, Great White God come in big flying canoe and scare helpless
native peoples, an' all...
> ...(Small bespectacled person stands in front of SweetPoly's porch, pith
> helmet clutched nervously in both hands held in front as if it were a
> shield. Spindly legs poke out of many-pocketed khaki shorts. Dark knee
> socks droop at lower calf level into brown shoes.
Yes, Sourcerer sneers, it's the cultural anthropologist from last
semester whose perverted kinship tables had related him to Andrea
Chen...sssssss!!!
> To his credit he wears
> an extremely bright Hawiian shirt that is particularly out of place with
> the rest of his khaki outfit. He is extremely dusty and small yellow
> Post-it(tm) notes cling to his clothing in odd places. He glances
> nervously over his shoulder at the swirling, buzzing storm he just stepped
> out of, then turns and looks at the group staring suspicously at him from
> the porch.
(The aborigine's jibber jabber in their primitive lingo like monkeys,
waggling totem-medicine-juju's, and generally ooga-boogaing Zeitgeyser)
> He starts a sentence then takes a deep breath - realizing that
> he'll have to speak up to be heard over the storm behind him. "Is that
> BLACKberry pie I smell? Can I have some?" He grins shyly.)
> [from my mail, posted with permission]
"Cost you'um plenty pretty beads, b'wana," Sourcerer sniggers, while
petting a sad looking bee mouse held in his palm.
> A shrill whistle sounds, attracting the newcomer's attention: it's Frodo,
> with a snagged pie, waving Zeitgeyser on over towards a round door in the
> nearby hillside. "C'mon over", Frodo hollers. "Tea's almost ready, and
> we can lay low until Poly gets back. You would not *believe* the amount
> of fighting going on around here, and there's a great view of the front
> yard and porch from my window. You'll be safe for now." Frodo had
> promised Poly he'd watch out for any newcomers while she was in school,
> and take them in (being used to parties), at least until they could get
> settled in on their own.
At the mention of Poly, Sourcerer feels a twinge of remorse, and sits
down to pen his apologies...
Dear Poly,
I take pen in hand, and regret to inform you that yrs trly has...
(__) Sourcerer
/(<>)\ O|O|O|O||O||O "RL is a story told in cyberspace"
\../ |OO|||O|||O|O -- Sweet Poly
|| OO|||OO||O||O
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