Skywriting -- Apr 18, 1998
Continued from Apr 17, 1998
Love is real, real is love.Thank you John
Yoko smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Yoko, my love..." but it was no use, she was asleep. Looking at the time John decided to go for a walk, it was barely 5pm, what could've made Yoko so tired??
Walking around the cold streets of New York, John could have a moment to think... Funny. He hadn't been this far away from Yoko for years. He was pleased to see the lack of streetcars.
Papparazzi came up and took a couple of photos. "Excuse me," John mumbled and pushed through them... quickly they grew in force untill the only was out was through a fence he found himself pinned against. Luckily there was a hole, from behind someone grabbed him & pulled him through... & blocked the small hole with a few logs with the help of his friend... "Thankyou...now, who the hell are ya?" "I Seamus & this is Jevan." John could smell the fresh aroma of pot mixed with inceance and log fires . "What is this?" "Why, it's the Folk Festival!" Seamus laughed... In the distance music started to play...Jevan & Seamus induiced John to some with them and find it... It was a Turkish band, and there were a group of bellydancers dancing wildly with gold tinkets and jewelery hanging off them, with clothes of silk... Joining in too where a bunch of merry-makers in on the action... "It's like Woodstock!" John muttered. "Better," Seamus replied... "This way..." Jevan pointed to a large Marquee. "This is our gig here..... " he replied. John looked and saw a colorful marquee, swirls and dots of paint splashed all over it. It was clearly handmade, but it was pretty good looking. Two other guys joined them, holding their instruments. "Hey!" the short, fat one shouted. "Who's the dude?"
"This's John," Jevan told him. "John, this is our keyboardist, Nathaniel." "Enough of that," the tall, thin guy replied. "Where's Midori? She was supposed to be here an hour ago!" John shook his head. "I don't understand. Who's Midori?"
"Midori is our vocalist," Seamus patiently explained. "She's wearing a blue and green dress with swirls on it and knee-high white boots, have you seen her?" John shrugged. He'd just got here, of course he hadn't seen her.
DAH! TOO MANY USELESS CHARACTERS! All bellydancers were hit by streetcars.
As the bellydancers peeled themselves off the cement, conveniently deceased, John's mind began to race. Just a minute ago he'd been marveling at the utter lack of streetcars! He turned around. He figured he should go while he was still alive. He went to the same exact place where he'd been pulled through the bushes. No escape! Even the logs which had plugged the hole were gone, and the original hole with them. NOW what?
Nothing was there. Nothing at all. No hole, no logs, no Turkish band. No bellydancers. John stood on the sidewalk, shivering. There wasn't much else to do. Nowhere else to go.
Continued on Apr 19, 1998
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