Writing
An Untrue Non-Fictional Autobiography of the greatest man who hast ever lived: Geoffrey Melinda Georges.
Dear Emily,
You are looking for a quiet writing retreat for two upcoming weeks? I would be happy to offer you the use of my summer house up North in Mendocino. It is a craftsman-inspired cottage set back in a spacious 30-acre woods. You can spend your days writing, overlooking the cliffs into the Pacific, or take a stroll through the thriving gardens, made anew by spring showers. Perhaps you will wish to take a break and retreat to the hand woven hammock while the butterflies dance before you. I would be happy to offer you all of this on one condition: You do not fall in love with my half-Brazilian half-French illiterate stable boy.
When you arrive, he will offer to take your bags, and first you will be captivated by his piercing blue eyes and obedient broken English. For the first few days you will keep your mind focused on your writing, yet slowly but surely your eyes will wander to the stable, where he will caring for a foal, born only this past winter. His singing sorrowful songs to the young horse in his native tongues will surely distract you as you draw the curtains closed at night. You must promise, though, that you will not fall in love with him.
You must resist all of your urges. You must not teach him to read by candlelight, or invite him to join you for a dinner of roasted chicken. You must not offer to cut his long flowing hair so that he might accompany you to market and not draw stares. You must not follow him to his family’s home where he cares for the elderly widow, blind in both eyes, and his bed stricken younger sister, blind in both legs. For if you engage in any of the above actives, you will surely fall in love with Phellipe.
You must be asking yourself, “why mustn’t I fall in love with him? The entire situation up in Mendocino all sounds quite so perfect. His body goldened by hours of labor in the sun and muscular from caring for mares and their mare-young.” Well, the answer is quite clear: For I have already fallen in love with Phellipe.
So let me know if you want to stay there and I can give you keys and a code the garage, but you must, above all else, stay away from the man I love.
Sincerely,
Danny
To: Michael
From: Danny
Dearest Michael, in anticipation of our forthcoming adventure to the Former Sandwich Isles, I wish for you to requisition the following goods:
- Passports for International Travel
- Matching beach volleyball uniforms (tops and bottoms)
- Sunglasses that can be slowly lowered on one’s nose to check out “the sights”
- “Oh Yeah” by Yello playing on a continuous loop
- White Linen Tuxedos
- Desharking Salts
- Stunning white stallions for sunset beach riding.
- Seaplanes! Seaplanes! Seaplanes!
- Harpoon Rifle
- Mirror-nanofabric wetsuits
- Satellite Phone on Secret Soviet Frequencies
- Jet ski fuel cells
- Extra iPod chargers, plz
- Bail Money (for Jail)
- Bale Money (for Horses)
- Decoder Rings
- Snacks and Sodas (for the Safe House)
- Snacks and Sodas (for the Safe Horses)
- A Halliburton briefcase containing $40,000 in each world currency
- Location of the fifth, and final, Dragon Stone
- A Sengalese man who believes in warlocks
Gather everything and place in a cargo container for shipment to Sawaiki.
- Rudy Kincaid
- Bonnie Handover
- Wince Fittle
- Terrir Acht Noicht
- Sars N. Mount
- Choice Goldman
- February Banks
- Capt. Swincey J. Kloke
- Tiddly G. Toddle
- Habberd Quance
- Royce L’Vier
- Dick Frackis
- Fritz Carlisle
- Journ B’Journ
- Tolde Unspool
- Craven McNasty
- Cascade Monarch
- Summer Dandy
- Locust Hastle
- Guard Pacer
- Horace Baste
- Tiny Jim Corrudo
- Plaster Bass (née Base)
- Astlar Bondice
- East Joyce Zahala
- Boynce Christle
- Dart
- Grave Harks
- Mr. Once
- Once Jr.
- Oncen Twice
- Cannon Byal
- John Cumin
- Toast O’Maley
- Wader Gates
- Passenger 9
- Rave Dan
- Yukon Gold
- Terrance Chowhound
- Supposedly Junk
- Karen Parsley
- Von Slausy
- Trail Bitter
- Huber Lalye
- Kalis Mayne
- Winter Heater
- Talis Arvér
- Quiver St. Cloud
- Dahvin Lancelot
- Rocket Springload
- Chauncey B. Hassel