Far away from where Madame Victoria sat with the newly discovered godling Bertran in the sweetest and brightest parts of Montreal, there was an empty studio apartment in Old Prague a young lady sat and contemplated the infinite.
It was a past time she was very well versed in. She didn’t particularly care about the infinite, but a woman in her position was forced to look at the vastness of the picture instead of where the ink dribbled over the corner of the canvas. She had been sitting here, every night, doing this same thing for longer than she would like to admit. A little dinner, a few carefully smoked clove-stuffed cigarettes, maybe catch a movie or go dancing and then back here to this ridiculously overpriced shit hole apartment that was a magnet for her and she would sit until sleep, thinking of why the everything was the way it was.
Her mind drifted backward this evening, think back to when old One-Eye had given the “privilege” township to what would soon become the nearly mythical city of Prague. She had been old even then, remembering Sumer and the nights of chaos that had been the ending of it. No, tonight she thought about when the town was formed and how she was so very proud of it, and herself, because she had done a good thing for the first time in so very long. She had been in this very room, well the room that had been in the building that had been here then. The original one was hundreds of feet below her now. Progress they called it. She would be there again soon, a girl needed to sleep after all.
First, though, she would allow the embrace of memory to take her back to that which was……
She was Charlotte then, or rather Karolina if you wanted to follow the Czech of the time. She had quite literally stumbled upon the city by mistake, having had no intention of being in a heavily peopled area again after the last time. However, like all things, temptation was there and she could hear the music, smell the food, feel the vibrancy of life pounding through the world and she could not help herself and settled down here, ostensibly a widow from the East, her husband having met an unfortunate fate in one of the dozen wars that were going on at the time.
She was wealthier than all of these young people. She had saved over the centuries and knew how to liquefy wealth in a hurry. Karolina had picked the best of what was available. Made sure to have a multitude of servants. She never could stand menial labor. As hard as it was, she was old enough to deny herself the instant gratification of the flesh. Sadly making the trek to the surrounding wilderness each night to find her sustenance…
An explosive sound shook her from her revelry. From where it came from she knew it could only be the damnable Council. Calling all of them to the Temple to meet again.
She who was Karolina and was now Kalypso grabbed the corpse of the young lady. She had brought her home for dinner. A tasty young thing who had been looking for a hostel. Kalypso made sure to dispose of her in the incinerator. Then with a heavy heart and anticipating a long evening, Kalypso made her way to the Temple. All of this so she could listen to infants. Those who did not know what it meant to be of the Darkness. They had the audacity to tell her that she was too dark for their plans.
© 2019, TheJameyBear. All rights reserved.
I am JameyBear. Liberal. Hippie. Dad. Widower. Poet. Author. Sarcastic Ass. Friend. Lover. Hater.
I have lied and cheated, stolen and done violence in word and deed.
I have given the shirt off my back and they wanted the skin underneath instead.
I am a notorious soft touch, wearing my heart on my sleeve and wanting to make everyone happy.
I tip too much, too often, too many places, and it is has burned me even as recent as this week.
I love everyone I have ever hated still. I will always love the memory of being in love with them.
I want to be your friend. No. I want you to want me to be your friend.
I am clingy and needy, dependent and hopelessly lost in times that I will never live in.
I use language that was archaic when archaic was a new word in the early 19th century.
I want to record myself reading everything so people won’t forget me when I disappear.
I talk too much, listen too deeply, process too quickly and infer way too much.
My beard is also better than yours