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arterie — Shell game
Published: 2001-01-09 19:05:35 +0000 UTC; Views: 607; Favourites: 2; Downloads: 182
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Chapter 3
The Retraction (in abstraction)
(She sat at her keyboard...Young gentlemen invited.....no, uh. this reporter saw, uh, hmmm...uh, okay.)
Seen on the town last Tuesday night were three young gentlemen Missing parts, escorting young lady Mp's to the "Annual Winter Mermaid Ballet".
Unbeknownst to jsenn, the writer of the previous and erroneous story, it is a tradition for the ladies who attend this ballet to morph into seashells, each trying to outdo the other with ruffles and petticoats and beautiful bows.
The wall behind the Missing parts was a stage prop, beautifully carved, representing the sunken wall of Athens, and it became a stunning sea green backdrop for the brushed golden Mp seashells and their handsome tuxedoed escorts, seen here twittering and during intermission.
The Annual Winter Mermaid Ballet is held each year in winter, or so I have been told, and it is a special time for the young Missing parts to 'dress up' and use their manners. It is so well attended that tickets must be purchased 5 years in advance and are often sold to young parents when a baby is born. It seems to be a rite of anticipated blossoming for Mp's in their teens, and carries with it absolutely no hint of sexual impropriety.
(no, I won't write that....let's see)
It seems to be a rite of anticipated blossoming for Mp's in their teens, and is greeted by them with great excitement exhibited by enormous grace and dignity.
(Okay! That's it....
what more can I say,
my perspective was off,
my judgement was skewed,
I'd been sick all week,
I'm sure it's all true.
What the grandma's said
was straight up and up.
Somday I'll asked a tuxedoed one though
I'll just walk right up and say, hey, wazzup!)
*__and the gingerbread man went bob bob bobbin along__*
the end
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Chapter 2 - the request for retraction
The totally fantastic report in the MPTownGazette of her great great grand Mps being seen cavorting across the tracks with the frilly ladies of the night was met with great consternation, and it was at that point that the writer of this 'tale', that would be myself, jsenn, was summoned for tea at the grand Mp's home.
The great great grand Mp is the most genteel Missing part you will ever meet. You can see her in the picture taken at the Christmas Garden Tea Party in her tie dyed flower dress. You might wonder at her appearance, as it seems she has an opening through the center of her body. She is the great nurturer and her heart is shaped liked a circle (gee, I mean no disrespect but her body is shaped like a doughnut...there I said it) But I think you will more fully understand when you know that this is where newborns are cuddled and where within it's circling warmth precious young and grown Mps find comfort and forgiveness and wisdom.
Therefore, you may understand my own consternation at being summoned to a private tea with the great matriarch of the Mp's (especially when I only reported what I saw, and even then I tried not to be too graphic).
It was tea time...... Have you ever noticed how you feel when you follow a floating Missing part?
I followed the great grand Mp to the tea room, where great great grand Mp was already seated. She was polite, but not overly so, and asked if I wanted tea, I answered yes, and tried very hard not to shift my eyes from her gaze. She handed me the tea and a gingerbread man cookie, which almost made me laugh, but I suppressed the giggle desperately and forced it to be a high pitched clearing of my throat. It made both of the grand Mps jump imperceptibly. I put my hand to my mouth and said, please excuse me.
The conversation went like this: what did you see? I told them. what did they do? I told them. why do you assume they were doing what you thought? I told them. did they really turn ebony? I said, yes.
The great grand Mp said, it is improper to talk of such behavior in our grandsons and as far as we are concerned such impropriety does not exist within them. It is a fact, known throughout the family that sex and sexual attitudes is not displayed or spoken of, that such conduct apart from marriage is not a part of an Mp's nature and number two, we are all a creation of the great Rick and secondly he creates us with paint and pixels.
I blinked, cleared my throat again (number two and secondly nearly did me in) they jumped imperceptibly, I shifted position in my chair, leaned over to set my tea down, and the gingerbread man cookie fell head first into the great great grand Mp's cup of tea, and absolutely bobbed there in the center of the cup, legs sticking up in the air, it just bobbed, and all three of us stared at it. I started to get the strange feeling that it was my effigy and I felt a trickle of sweat begin to bead on my upper lip.
Slowly, the great great grand Mp stood, motioning me to stay seated. From the center of this great stately Mp shined the brightest, most comforting glow of light that I have ever seen. I was immediately transfixed and comforted. She spoke softly and said, jsenn, we feel that your perspective might have been slightly off that night, that you may have erroneously assumed what you wrote and we would like the story retracted. I said, of course, remembering that I had thought my perspective might be off when I witnessed the scene and suddenly, I knew that my perspective had been skewed and I apologized and I felt lovingly forgiven.
They spoke gently of what had happened that night as I took copious notes, then we politely said goodbye and great grand Mp floated me to the door. When I turned to express my thanks for the tea and the story, out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed the gingerbread man cookie still bobbing upside down in great great grand Mp's cup of tea.
The story will be retracted this week.
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I am having a problem with perspective here, Rick. I wanted to see the Missing parts in black tuxedos, but as I studied this they became 'black sheep' Missing parts.
They've wandered into the seamier side of town where the buildings are shadowed, lace curtains at the windows are gray, and they have become infatuated with the ladies of the night. Flirty ladies, petticoats showing beneath ruffled skirts, their bows and curls, their frilly way of walking and talking.
I am afraid they have turned our young gentlemen into ebony brilliance which matches the moonless night. We would like to think they are just passing through, and the darkness of illicit desire has consumed them for just a moment.
Perhaps in the nick of time, one of their Missing parts mothers will call to them from across the tracks, and they will fade into ivory and float swiftly home.
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