Tuesday, June 28, 2005


I suppose our exit went rather smoothly, considering. When I am grounded for too long and that fear overtakes me--fear of my monstrous former self--sometimes I ignore the real danger. The life of a citizen has a seductive quality I always underestimate. This too, is part of who I am. And although I am distracted by this split, the ones looking for us never will be.

But when I heard the car approach I was ready. I awoke V., and all she said was, "What have you done with Oscar?" I told her I let him go.

For a second I was afraid she wouldn't come with me without the cat, then we climbed out the kitchen window and I waited beside the road, cursing my leg while she walked the rest of the way to town through the fields for a car. Now we are in a cramped city hotel room, tiny faded flowers on the cheap bedspreads and the stale smell of old cigarettes on clinging to the khaki curtains. The sound of sirens outside is amost soothing. V. watches old black and white movies on television while I examine the exits and wait for an associate to bring a doctor to look at my leg.

I feel calm. Strong. In control. Decisions made smoothly. What was happening to me back there?

Thursday, June 23, 2005

voices outside

I am restless in this room. I have not heard from my friends in a while. I am not sure what to do. Without G. it's hard to keep our purpose in mind. That day on the beach seems like a dream. I think I imagined a meaning that wasn't there. It's like two worlds have converged. That moment when I thought V. disappeared I realized... it's not simply that this can't be done alone. I don't want to be alone.

Why do I post any of this? Because I can. Maybe I am addicted to it. Mostly I like looking to see if anyone's thoughts match mine. If anyone else is struggling against the world as its been constructed. Looking for something else to believe in.

It's time to move soon. If you are out there, send me some sign.

Tuesday, June 21, 2005


How long did I think it could go on, the two of us, living here, undetected? If it were just me I could hide forever, but I think I have been expecting too much from V. I had only gone for a walk. Actually walking outside is like a gift in itself... V. had found an oddly-shaped piece of driftwood to help me get around. It looks like something that ought to be owned by a mountain man with a wild beard but it works much better than depending on the few corners and counters in our house to prop me up. When I returned to the house, V. was gone. (The cat betrayed its intelligence by promptly slinking under her bed). At sunset she had not returned and I took my sword and circled the house, not sure I'd return. No sign of her in any direction. I settled down to wait, away from the house, not knowing whether to be angry with her or not. What if she had been caught? How could I save her? I heard her approach before I saw her. She was sort of singing to herself. She looked ashamed when she saw me and said she'd gone into town. Did you talk to anyone? Did anyone notice you? Were you followed back? She looked ready to cry. "I'm going crazy with you out here!" she said, and ran inside. Of course she was noticed. Of course she was followed. I sat outside watching and waiting long past nightfall.

Monday, June 13, 2005

in the meantime

I do see your point... sometimes a cat is just a cat, and sometimes a cigar is just a cigar... let me put it this way: I'd rather not be sharing my living space with this creature. I would have preferred if V. had not lured it in the house while I was sleeping and I'd feel a good deal better if her new pet were not staring at me right now, all wounded eyes and patchy, mottled brown fur. To V. it is just another hurt creature, one more appreciative of her kindess than I appear to be. I hate the cat because I can't look at it without seeing its potential as a surveillance device, but I know that I am not an insane person, even after everything. Someone, sometime, has to lead them back to G.

"You must be feeling better," V. said last night. "You're getting paranoid again."

Do I detect a trace of bitterness? I suspect we have been driving ourselves slightly crazy in this sweltering heat, and our tacit understanding that silence is the best policy. I stare at my leg, white and bandaged as if it does not belong to me. I feel almost perfectly well, until I stand and try to move and then I realize how slowly I am recovering.

Without the luxury of my usual habits, I've been spending more time on the internet, searching for some sign, some hidden clue, and sometimes just losing myself in the chatter.

Monday, June 06, 2005


Something woke me from a deep sleep early this morning and the first thing I saw was a pair of yellow eyes staring in through the window. I yelled for V. It was rather embarrassing once I heard my voice, like a child having a nightmare. V. peered out the window and laughed. "It's a cat," she said. She went to the door but the creature ran away. I lay back but didn't sleep. I was thinking about the splicers. I wonder if they've created new creatures for spying. If they know we are here.