"All living things contain a measure of madness that moves them in strange, sometimes inexplicable ways."
― Yann Martel, Life of Pi
"Mo?" She hissed right next to my ear. "You can pretend that you don't hear me, old woman, but I know you do!"
Ayup, she was right, I was pretending not to hear or see her. I just kept on painting. I didn't really want to deal with her. Suffice it to say I got my reasons.
Fact is I am lousy artist. I couldn't draw a straight line using a ruler much less a paint brush. I usually just dabbed the brush in pretty colors then dabbed it on the canvass. Strange thing is people think it looks like art. By my experience, people have always tended to be a bit bent in their upper stories. But thinking my paintings are art' That's pushing it even for the insane.
Alas what else was there for me to do' Thursday Night Bingo, Saturday Afternoon Movies, (old folks don't stay up late enough for movies at night or so they seem to think), and the nightly Bed-hopping Extravaganza only took up so much of my time as it did the other elderly residents that lived in Perp Miz along with me. I needed a hobby. Painting was easy. I just suck at it is all. I can't paint a thing to save my sorry soul. But I can dab pretty colors on that canvas with a vengeance.
Perp Miz has been my home for about seven years now. Perp Miz is short for Our Lady of Perpetual Misery. It's an old church that was built back in the day, before the birth of the city of Rhy"Din proper. Odd thing that they named a city after the planet on which it was build, but there's no accounting for taste I always say or, in this situation, the lack of it.
It has a clock tower, the first ever to serve the small village that bloomed up around the Red Dragon Inn. It took a few generations for the city to get built, but eventually it blossomed into the right pretty flower it is today. Did I say pretty' What I mean is - what a damn stinky flower it is too!
Whew, the sewage system could use a little extra something, let me tell you!
A few years back, some fancy pants do-gooders put in a community center right smack in the church rectory to serve the elderly and just about anyone else down on their luck. The Perp Miz Community Center, yeah, same name as the church. Let me state the obvious: the folks in Rhy"Din aren't that inspired when it comes to naming things.
They renovated the place and gave it four or five new floors, haven't been up near the top so I ain't so sure, and an outstanding kitchen. It's too bad I ain't a cook, but I'm worse at that then dabbing paint. We've got seven whole bathrooms too - with indoor plumping! A dream come true for us older resident's, who remorsefully recall the outhouses and having to dig and bury all them holes full of crap.
Strange thing, none of us know exactly what religion the church serves. Odd that, when you stop to ponder it which I am certain few ever bother to do. The church holds a weekly Bingo night, and every now and again some aging fool takes to the pulpit to preach about what?s good and what?s likely to ruin you. But no one ever talks about the God or Gods the church was built to serve. Begs to question if anyone even knows.
Still, it's quite nice to have a warm place to sleep and three good meals in a day. Not everyone gets that on their own. The Perp Miz Community Center does its very best to serve those of us in need. Trust me when I say even in a place where one can summon up money out of dirt and leaves there are plenty that find themselves down on their luck. Not everyone can afford those coin spells and fewer still know how to make them stick long enough to buy what they need before the coin turns back into the rubbish from whence it came. Trust me, I know. I was once one of them folks casting alternative spells on conjured coins to catch the magical culprits in action. I didn't let them hornswoggle me, no way no how!
Of course that was long ago and I was much younger then. I think. Got some holes in my memory so not everything is as clear as it outta be.
As to how I landed here in the warm embrace of Perp Miiz" Let's just say I didn't exactly fall down on my luck, but it wasn't a choice I made; it was a choice made for me. In the end I did get a cushy place in the elderly center. I wasn't happy at first, but now a days, I am counting it as a blessing. Especially with the lovely indoor plumping! Who knew that such a feature would make life seem much more enjoyable and worth continuing. It is a hell of a sight better than the loony bin, let me tell you!
"Mo!" You are starting to really piss me off, woman! Pay attention to me!!!" She shouted in my ear now as she fluttered her hands in front of my face.
I nearly rolled my eyes but that would give up my pretense of ignorance. The thing is talking to ghosts is what got me in this predicament in the first place. Oh, yeah, I can hear your brainpan whirling. You think I am bat shit crazy, don't you? Well, everyone else does too. Only thing is I'm not. And sure as the sun shines you don't know what my predicament is. But I am betting, if you have a curious mind and a sense for the uncanny, you will be wanting to know.
Well, then, story time, ain't it just' And, as all good stories begin, I shall start with: Once upon a time ago, in a land far, far away"
Too bad I can't remember it, huh' Guess we'll have to start with what I do recall.
(To be continued?)
"Mo?" She hissed right next to my ear. "You can pretend that you don't hear me, old woman, but I know you do!"
Ayup, she was right, I was pretending not to hear or see her. I just kept on painting. I didn't really want to deal with her. Suffice it to say I got my reasons.
Fact is I am lousy artist. I couldn't draw a straight line using a ruler much less a paint brush. I usually just dabbed the brush in pretty colors then dabbed it on the canvass. Strange thing is people think it looks like art. By my experience, people have always tended to be a bit bent in their upper stories. But thinking my paintings are art' That's pushing it even for the insane.
Alas what else was there for me to do' Thursday Night Bingo, Saturday Afternoon Movies, (old folks don't stay up late enough for movies at night or so they seem to think), and the nightly Bed-hopping Extravaganza only took up so much of my time as it did the other elderly residents that lived in Perp Miz along with me. I needed a hobby. Painting was easy. I just suck at it is all. I can't paint a thing to save my sorry soul. But I can dab pretty colors on that canvas with a vengeance.
Perp Miz has been my home for about seven years now. Perp Miz is short for Our Lady of Perpetual Misery. It's an old church that was built back in the day, before the birth of the city of Rhy"Din proper. Odd thing that they named a city after the planet on which it was build, but there's no accounting for taste I always say or, in this situation, the lack of it.
It has a clock tower, the first ever to serve the small village that bloomed up around the Red Dragon Inn. It took a few generations for the city to get built, but eventually it blossomed into the right pretty flower it is today. Did I say pretty' What I mean is - what a damn stinky flower it is too!
Whew, the sewage system could use a little extra something, let me tell you!
A few years back, some fancy pants do-gooders put in a community center right smack in the church rectory to serve the elderly and just about anyone else down on their luck. The Perp Miz Community Center, yeah, same name as the church. Let me state the obvious: the folks in Rhy"Din aren't that inspired when it comes to naming things.
They renovated the place and gave it four or five new floors, haven't been up near the top so I ain't so sure, and an outstanding kitchen. It's too bad I ain't a cook, but I'm worse at that then dabbing paint. We've got seven whole bathrooms too - with indoor plumping! A dream come true for us older resident's, who remorsefully recall the outhouses and having to dig and bury all them holes full of crap.
Strange thing, none of us know exactly what religion the church serves. Odd that, when you stop to ponder it which I am certain few ever bother to do. The church holds a weekly Bingo night, and every now and again some aging fool takes to the pulpit to preach about what?s good and what?s likely to ruin you. But no one ever talks about the God or Gods the church was built to serve. Begs to question if anyone even knows.
Still, it's quite nice to have a warm place to sleep and three good meals in a day. Not everyone gets that on their own. The Perp Miz Community Center does its very best to serve those of us in need. Trust me when I say even in a place where one can summon up money out of dirt and leaves there are plenty that find themselves down on their luck. Not everyone can afford those coin spells and fewer still know how to make them stick long enough to buy what they need before the coin turns back into the rubbish from whence it came. Trust me, I know. I was once one of them folks casting alternative spells on conjured coins to catch the magical culprits in action. I didn't let them hornswoggle me, no way no how!
Of course that was long ago and I was much younger then. I think. Got some holes in my memory so not everything is as clear as it outta be.
As to how I landed here in the warm embrace of Perp Miiz" Let's just say I didn't exactly fall down on my luck, but it wasn't a choice I made; it was a choice made for me. In the end I did get a cushy place in the elderly center. I wasn't happy at first, but now a days, I am counting it as a blessing. Especially with the lovely indoor plumping! Who knew that such a feature would make life seem much more enjoyable and worth continuing. It is a hell of a sight better than the loony bin, let me tell you!
"Mo!" You are starting to really piss me off, woman! Pay attention to me!!!" She shouted in my ear now as she fluttered her hands in front of my face.
I nearly rolled my eyes but that would give up my pretense of ignorance. The thing is talking to ghosts is what got me in this predicament in the first place. Oh, yeah, I can hear your brainpan whirling. You think I am bat shit crazy, don't you? Well, everyone else does too. Only thing is I'm not. And sure as the sun shines you don't know what my predicament is. But I am betting, if you have a curious mind and a sense for the uncanny, you will be wanting to know.
Well, then, story time, ain't it just' And, as all good stories begin, I shall start with: Once upon a time ago, in a land far, far away"
Too bad I can't remember it, huh' Guess we'll have to start with what I do recall.
(To be continued?)