April is the _____est Month
April is the _____est Month
Anyway, the deletions? The Tamburlaine quote with words removed? The one shoe on/one
shoe off?That’s a calling card of a persistent crew of sub-post-modern literary dweebs, having
ancient lineage (by which I mean, all the way back to someone in Sartre’s circle in the 40’s.
Probably a Vichyite.They were all Vichyites), which devoted itself to the freeing of all speech
from expression. They differed in that they actually lived in community and prostrated
themselves before a Spirit (not a God, mind you) of Negation.They went around into libraries
scratching words of of pages with pen knives.They burned books well after the Nazis made it
cool. They stole and kidnapped (Symbionese Liberation Army? A heretical offshoot) and in
general made pests of themselves. They’re not that lionized for a couple of reasons: 1)
absolutely miserable, and 2) they started doing it to Communists, and the KGB assassinated a
lot of them. But some remain. “Is everyone else home for the day?” I said to Dave.
Of course, the great rule is that survival is a reward of truth. So what remains is sneaky, cruel,
occult, and impossible to deprogram.They are into the shit, my friend. “Been with you long?”
“I came in early. I saw this, I sent an email blast. Fumigation or something.”
I stand directly over the girl. “And her?”
“What about her?”
“She work here?”
“Yeah.”
“Couple of months, maybe.”
Now, the obvious question is: why?Why visit this agony on a tax attorney, who frankly, is every
weirdo’s best friend in Caesar’s arena? To ask the question is to answer it.You’re assuming
rationality when no such can reasonably be attested to. Cults, especially ideological ones, have
reasons that reason knows nothing of.
Which is why not seeing them out the window bothered me.When they drop a Big Display
like this on you, and they ain’t nowhere to be seen, that means the bastards intend a Return
Trip.Which kinda makes you feel like a beat cop calling in a homicide: really, you’re just hear
to file the paperwork.
“Name?”
“Amanda.”
“So….”
He gives me a quizzical look. “So… what?”
I don’t feel like being delicate. “You screwing her?”
But, aforementioned facts are stubborn in an aforementioned manner. If cultos intended a
future going harassment-type deal, then why go to all the trouble to sneak down to my office,
and send me the message?
He snorts. “Really?”
“I mean, she’s cute…”
I stand over the zonked-out girl and ponder.There was nothing missing from my office. No,
seriously, I’m very aware of my office in a sub-mental way.You know how dragons are when
you touch a cup of their hoard (you’re waiting for me to tell you if dragons are really real, too,
like vampires and wendigos and witches. I’m going to leave you with the mystery)? That’s me
with my office. If there was a book or a blade missing, I’d have known it. It’s fengshui (that is
real).Which means that the message wasn’t to tell me that they took something, but to warn
me that they could.
“Not my type.” I look at him. “You know my type,” he says.
That’s true. I did know his type.Amanda is a petite brunette. His current wife is as blonde and
tall as the succubus that nearly finished him was. I met her when they started dating,
presumably so I could give her some kind of paranormal once-over. I didn’t get an invite to the
wedding.