© Electra's dictionary is Copyright protected. These words are original to the author.
31 January 2024
when you consider an existential crisis I am not sure that covers it
so odd thing~
weird.concerning yet another cryptic encounter.i am only putting it in here as —call it backstory, it was when i was in Maryland this one day I went out hiking. Well, I don’t have any idea why but this woman approached me. She just walked up to me as I was getting into my car, I was eating a protein bar and she asked me what kind it was.
I guess I didn’t want to be rude, stuck in the door of my car— in ninety degree Fahrenheit Maryland summer weather, after a hike thirsty snd starving but ok…. She said they were camping there and she waved to her husband who was a retired police detective I think out of DC and huh but then somehow she seemed to want to know all about me. Unless it was just two curmudgeons who try to solve mysteries when they camp—who knows
Is this odd?
These things happen to me. Usually men but like I’ve said not always just men. What was I doing that made her want to know about me? Hiking clothes and a very boring four door car. my protein bar? But she started with, “are you local?”
That is the wrong question for me to squirm out of.
when I got to the part of where I grew up well there we go —it gets even more weird. She tells me they had moved to the Netherlands the year I started at Bard
I don’t know —this is something I might make up in a story but i ….
And during this whole conversation in my head I’m asking myself “what does this woman want?” because ….it feels like there is something. I did get to meet the husband as he was packing things up, and the dog who was very friendly for a huge dog …. And I even remember saying to him, “sorry I don’t mean to steal your wife from what you guys are doing!”
But he looked straight at me dead on —yes, I saw the cop stare—
But then he cracked a sudden Clint Eastwood grin that actually chilled me as he said,
“go right ahead! It’s usually me getting into a long winded conversation, I’m enjoying this.”
as I’m still stuck inside the door
and I’m still wondering —what does she want?
After he walked away she insisted we should keep in touch and even as she lived on the other side of that massive bridge I thought maybe a nearish friend there could come in handy.
Well. She did text me. There had been some possibility of meeting before they left but ….
To my relief it didn’t happen but ….she seems to keep popping up. Like today
what does she want?
28 January 2024
you see, I am not interested in shallow encounters, I am so bored of that. bored of the propositions that are designed to both impress me as well as shock me. so bored of that. you think I can’t be slutty? write slutty? you think I can’t bend in every position any sick fuck might Ai me? and look like I am enjoying it?—and yes, I could too —if it were my mood to; when I choose and —it’s boring if there’s no actual mind behind the mummery
so fucking bored
18 January 2024
side street baskerville a party for tea
But by the end of the day, Faun did not want to reflect upon the meeting with the two authorities which, mostly was tedious and all about the fact that Monsieur Pierre Reaux was not kept abreast of the ongoing details of the case. It was a wasted hour of listening to and watching him exclaim and strut over the documents and the paper trail of how Sullivan and she and third party had left him in the dust.
It just buried Faun under more stupid nonsense.
Sheila did not see Faun again until after closing time when she handed Faun the cash till,
“What did Inspector Clouseau have to say?—sheeze —you look like you’ve not see daylight in a year! Did you even eat anything all day?”
Faun took the till and quietly started counting the drawer down
Sheila cleared her throat,
“hello?”
Faun looked up in mid count,
“thirty-seven….” her eyes focused on Sheila and for a second or two it seemed she seemed to go blank. Then she said, “I’m sorry …. yeah—Clouseau needs a clue—I don’t want to get into it, he’s an idiot —but, it’s just more stuff they need—paperwork—total waste of my time….sorry…. I can’t believe it’s so late—I never even saw the sun today….sorry I left you out there on the floor all day.”
“It was your day off, and I wasn’t alone, the girls took a shift today —so, the change might be off—“
Faun dropped the pennies back in the coin slot and looked at Sheila—six foot two black trans beauty wearing one of her usual imaginative ensembles, this one involving a red tartan kilt with a matching hat
“Oh…. I didn’t realize ….” Faun again looked blank
“Ill do the till— sweetie, why don’t you go home?”
After about a minute of considering and nervously rearranging the objects of the desk in front of her Faun sighed in defeat,
“yeah….” and stood up and reached without looking for her hand bag and coat but paused by the office door. She looked into the office and back at Sheila, “King Leopold?”
“Oh! We have him—I meant to tell you, can we drop him off tomorrow? Gary and he seemed to have hit it off—“
“So, who dropped him off? Who was the guy?”
“Guy,” Sheila said, “his name —that’s his name—“
“But—“ and yet as Faun wished to press for more info on this little mystery her phone alerted with the dismal tone of Pierre Reaux —asking her to fetch yet one more piece of paperwork —this one from Arthur’s office.
It was awhile before Faun finally arrived back at her place in the freezing cold, fumbling for her key hardly noticing any of her surroundings except for the cold and all the snow and so it was with a start that she looked up from removing her boots inside the entrance via her kitchen, by the door that she noticed ….Grant standing there looking at her —still inside the partition between her place and the other side that lead out to ….the other kitchen and —to salmon sofas
“What….” the words seemed not to come to Faun as she stared up at him
He looked ….terrible ….it was clear he had been traveling but it was not just a look of travel weary, it was something deeper.
He stared at her. His dark hair and face were groomed as usual but something was obviously wrong; he appeared slightly crumpled in his woolen pullover and gray trousers
“Something’s —wrong….” Faun said it looking at him as she carefully approached him in her stocking feet
Slowly his eyes met hers; red veined and tired but it made the green of one of them almost brilliant
“Don’t ask me,” he said and just stared at her. His eyes took a deadly serious look. “Don’t ask,” he said again
Faun took a step back and started to turn away,
“all ri—“ but he reached for her as she started to move away. Faun stumbled and let him steady her as she looked again up at him. She stared into his eyes and said again, “all right ….” as she took a deep breath, “would you like tea?”
15 January 2024
a royal Reaux side street mystery
13 January 2024
An alley way called Dawn off the side street
She felt differently she realized, staring out over the street in front of her, watching the coats of snow melt under the pummel of the constant rain which replaced the days of snow storms
She had felt differently for awhile.
The tone of life had cast a new altered scheme of shades ….and it was so gradual, this change …. it was not possible to pin point any exact moment of the shift
but there was a shift ….
Faun looked down at her chapped hands— now softened ….but they still slightly stung, if she noticed ….
why had she come here….? and why had Grant been able to distract her from ….distract her from what is reality. But the change began when it was still present
and the events —a few shocking deaths between other
events …. smeared what remained of the dreams
What world did those dreams belong in?
Sheila had no other message from Grant— so, it seems ….he forgot her, and now having shut up this part of the house Faun turned away from the window. She kept her eyes away from the salmon colored couches and focused on the door through which would close out these recent memories ….
and once through that door….Shut….with a click….she leaned against it and stared ahead at the interior of her little kitchen ….her bald reality glared back as she wondered how it was possible that he had achieved this ability to distract her from reality —that reality ….
And now with everything back in order at the shop and the bills sorted out and replied to whatever it was that Pierre Reaux needed (copies of the mud print photos) now done
Faun faced the empty place ignoring the mockery of cheap fixes that existed for dates and fake friends —how did he distract her from that? she slid down the door and sat on the floor ….not a flashy red carpet promise, it was just—the ease that existed when he was around; a calm in which to think and breathe— was it illusion ….?something she had conjured up and blindly had believed in—her fault—so….it should be easy to conjure again, right? for herself ….
Faun reminded herself that he would have to contact her eventually about the book shop
wouldn’t he?
It suddenly occurred to her why Grant was able to distract her from the brutalities of life