Love's Arrow ~ John Byrne
“Welcome to The Middle” said the grey-haired man on the square plinth.
The man sat cross legged and his eyes were closed, a fact that caused Atom to wonder how he knew they were there.
“The middle of what” said No.3.
“The middle of the sentence that I was busy thinking,” said the man, “The middle this edge of the page; the middle of the muddle we’re in.”
“Hello Miles” said Cajones, “Still talking loud but saying nothing I see.”
“Just because you don’t get it doesn’t negate it” said the man.
“True,” said Cajones, “Only problem is I do get it, it’s a game that you play with yourself.”
“A game?”
“Sorry to interrupt your happy reunion,” said Atom, “But where’s the music coming from?”
“A game?”
“A game,” said Cajones, “that we all know the rules to except you.”
“Oi!” No.3 prodded Cajones with the blunt end of his spear, “It’s rude to…” Cajones swatted him with a withdrawn-claw-paw, sending him flying, all legs ‘n’ loincloth, across the clearing.
“The music, young man,” said the Miles, turning towards Atom and opening his eyes, “is coming from the Signalman’s hut.”
“erm thanks” said Atom.
“You’re so full of yourself,” said the man to Cajones, “Teacher’s pet, free to roam.”
“You call me anybody’s pet again and I’ll dissect you alive, and I’ll do it slowly.”
“You and whose army?”
“Not again” said Atom covering his eyes, remembering the incident of the Desk Clerk.
The clearing was silent, except for the music from the Signalman’s hut and the sound of No.3 disentangling himself from the thorn bush in which he’s landed.
“ee…tsss…ah…owch…”
Atom opened his eyes to find Cajones and Miles grinning at one another. More precisely, Miles was grinning while Cajones was baring his teeth.
The music came to an abrupt halt. The silence lasted a heartbeat before the music began again; different, more strident.
“erm, guys?” said Atom, “can we please not do that thing which involves turning someone inside out and then artistically rearranging their innards? It’s really not my thing.”
They turn from one another to look at Atom, traces of their diverse grins falling from their faces.
“This one has got spirit, “says Miles.
“Is that what you call it,“ said Cajones, “He’s not the brightest bulb but he does make No.3 over there appear positively dog-like.”
“…and while we’re at it, could we not talk about me as if I wasn’t here” said Atom.
“Spirit” said Miles.
“No balls though” said Atom.
The man sat cross legged and his eyes were closed, a fact that caused Atom to wonder how he knew they were there.
“The middle of what” said No.3.
“The middle of the sentence that I was busy thinking,” said the man, “The middle this edge of the page; the middle of the muddle we’re in.”
“Hello Miles” said Cajones, “Still talking loud but saying nothing I see.”
“Just because you don’t get it doesn’t negate it” said the man.
“True,” said Cajones, “Only problem is I do get it, it’s a game that you play with yourself.”
“A game?”
“Sorry to interrupt your happy reunion,” said Atom, “But where’s the music coming from?”
“A game?”
“A game,” said Cajones, “that we all know the rules to except you.”
“Oi!” No.3 prodded Cajones with the blunt end of his spear, “It’s rude to…” Cajones swatted him with a withdrawn-claw-paw, sending him flying, all legs ‘n’ loincloth, across the clearing.
“The music, young man,” said the Miles, turning towards Atom and opening his eyes, “is coming from the Signalman’s hut.”
“erm thanks” said Atom.
“You’re so full of yourself,” said the man to Cajones, “Teacher’s pet, free to roam.”
“You call me anybody’s pet again and I’ll dissect you alive, and I’ll do it slowly.”
“You and whose army?”
“Not again” said Atom covering his eyes, remembering the incident of the Desk Clerk.
The clearing was silent, except for the music from the Signalman’s hut and the sound of No.3 disentangling himself from the thorn bush in which he’s landed.
“ee…tsss…ah…owch…”
Atom opened his eyes to find Cajones and Miles grinning at one another. More precisely, Miles was grinning while Cajones was baring his teeth.
The music came to an abrupt halt. The silence lasted a heartbeat before the music began again; different, more strident.
“erm, guys?” said Atom, “can we please not do that thing which involves turning someone inside out and then artistically rearranging their innards? It’s really not my thing.”
They turn from one another to look at Atom, traces of their diverse grins falling from their faces.
“This one has got spirit, “says Miles.
“Is that what you call it,“ said Cajones, “He’s not the brightest bulb but he does make No.3 over there appear positively dog-like.”
“…and while we’re at it, could we not talk about me as if I wasn’t here” said Atom.
“Spirit” said Miles.
“No balls though” said Atom.
5 comments:
Cajones is cracking me the hell up!
Lobi: he's a lovable cat isn't he; so affectionate.
at least Atom has sense enough to know who owns the balls.
delightful dialogue and imagery... the loin cloth reference was quite the picture... er, i am supposed to be using my imagination, right?
Harlequin: without your imagination my stories would be pretty bland - No.3's loincloth is not a pretty sight for sure.
Whoa... did I miss a chapter? Had a "jump cut" moment.
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