(Iglesia is a serialized novel, published ….rarely these days!…on Tuesdays and Saturdays at midnight ET, you can read all of the episodes by clicking on the tag.)
They had not made love. Coupling on the bed had been instinctive, a response, an act of primate behavior, the fear and dread of death too big for even sex to conquer…..for now. Near death experiences bond humans together in a fundamental way. Having their real, actual death, yet continued real, actual existence demonstrated to them so shockingly had left them nothing to cling to but each other.
In the morning, they felt like children, children who had moved to a new town, a new country, a new world. Not knowing what they would face but knowing that it would be totally new and completely unexpected. Rogers entered, and shortly after him, so did the breakfast cart. It came rolling in and stopped behind him, propelled guided and stopped, they realized, by his will. A reminder of the new rules of their “existence.” Milk was poured, lemon squeezed, and kippers were silently eaten, before Iglesia raised her eyes and asked in a small voice, “So …..what the hell are we?”
Rogers looked at her kindly, for a change, looked at her as he would look at a daughter. “You are what you’ve always been. You just don’t have bodies any more.” For some reason they both looked at Abe, who still had a wistful and distracted air. Iglesia could tell from looking at him that he was thinking about last night. She wondered too, if, as she supposed he was thinking, should have been more aggressive. Then she wondered, if since they were dead, that even matered. A feeling of regret passed through her, until she remembered….how his hair felt under her fingertips, the way he smelled, and the way his breathing had felt when he was wrapped around her, there, in the night.
This could be interesting!
Abe shook his head and his eyes were clear and sharp as he turned to ask Rogers, “So how do you fight? How do you kill? How do you win?” Rogers said, “Let’s take the first two first. We’ll discuss winning some other time. You kill the same way you kill when you have a body — with your mind. You just strike with and at other surfaces.”
“Who do we fight?” Iglesia asked. “And why?”
Rogers busied himself with tea, being overfussy with his preparation before snapping his gaze back to Iglesia’s eyes and uttering the single word “Evil.”
Abe, reacting as he often did in times of surprise translated that by referring to the movies of his youth, and blurted out “We’re going to need a bigger boat.”
Iglesia added, “And guns. Lots of guns.”
Rogers coughed. “Whatever your imagination tells you you need, you are welcome to pretend to have. Whatever makes you comfortable is what works best for you. However, the people … the beings … you’ll be….encountering, have probably watched old movies, too. I might suggest that it would behoove you try to stretch your imagination a little bit. I would encourage you to open your minds as far as you possibly can. When you are engaged in conflict with another mind, spontaneity is your best ally and surprise your most effective weapon.Flexibilty, improvisation and being fully ….present….are imperative.” Rogers looked at his teacup, the spoon in it quivered excitedly and then the cup exploded. Iglesia’s hand rose swiftly to catch a jagged piece that was flying towards herface, but when she opened her hand it was empty. “Now, Rogers said, “there is no spoon.”
“Or for that …matter… anything else.
Rogers cast his eyes towards the door that led to the huge space outside and said, “Let’s go stretchour minds” (Abe could swear he heard …”dunh Dunh DUNH…the notes just coming out of, and hanging in, the air ) “and see what you are capable of.”
.
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This is an autopost, see ya in the morning!
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…as the Rock Man said.
So maybe someone can tell me what the hell this is and what, if anything, possesses me to post it in Iglesia?
Glad it is back!!!!
iglesia’s back! iglesia’s back! iglesia’s back!
and what a wondrous return!
thank you buhdy
thank you
♥~