Note: As you all may have guessed I have not proofed this in any way or
fashion....it's just me plugging away at odd times of the night (odder
still if it actually is daylight) and then firing it out.....yes this is
inexcusable if you are a professional (or want to be) but the point is
this is spontainious FUN....who proofs finger painting? 
  Also, if I actually spell-checked this what would I be able to do in the
petulant self-defensive rants like this one :)
 Yes, I am a pain.
 Actuallly, the only responces have been threats that I keep Nene
safe...nothing about spelling at all.... and then there were those guys at
the door in the dark coats...but I'm supposed to forget about them, ne?
 Anyway, enough blathering...which yes was just an excuse for me to warm
up....


 
  
                   Old Ghosts and New
                      A Recconing?


  She turned away and I could see her shaking a little like she was
sobbing but was trying to hold back.
 "I...I'm not sure I understand." I said and it was true. How could she be
who she looked like, who I thought she was? Obviously I was over-tired
and was lying face-down in the booth blissfully snoring. Or, just to
assume it was happening, then well maybe it was some sort of demented joke
to play with my mind. I considerd the problems I'd been having with Julie
and Alex and wondered if this wasn't perhaps Julie's way of smacking me
across the head.
 And then there was the third alternitive: It was all true and she really
was standing there. But then there was another stumbling block - even if
in some strange way I had fallen into a particularly bad Twilight Zone
episode - she was dead.
I looked over at the counterman and say him engrossed in loading a tray of 
Barvarian Cremes into their new temporary home. He obviously didn't think
anything was too much amiss. Of course this close to the Jane-Finch
corrodor the only thing that would have gotten his attention was if I was
packing.
 I looked at her. She looked real enough...and myabe I could do
something...maybe I had done enough -too much. If She was reall then she
was right. In some strange way I had killed her.
  
 "Jen...Jennifer...." What do you say to somebody you might be
hallucinating? What do you say to someone who if they do exist are
dead..and you did it.
 "Jennifer, I'm sorry."
 She shudded as her body convulsed slightly with a sob and then spoke.
 "Oh that's fine..."I'm sorry" that makes it all so much beeter." 
 She made a strange sound, a giggle on the verge of hysteria. A sound of
someone who has just heard something so painful in it's banality that all
you can do is laugh even if it breaks you.
 I got up and approched her. put my hand tentively -lightly, on her
shoulder. I felt her shiver slightly under her dark blue sweater, 
 but she let my hand stay there.
 "This is all so stupid." She said. "I mean you have no idea what you are
doing and here I go falling apart before I can...before anything can be
done."
 "I don't know what to say... what you want me to do." I was at a loos and
had the urge to run out of the place...but I also felt protective and
wanted to keep her from any more harm.
 Jennifer straightened then, as if she had found something inside herself 
to  allow her to continue.
 Whatever it was it was a good thing and when she smiled faintly through
her tears. "One thing."
 "What? Name it."
"Another hot chocolate. I'm going to freshen up a bit." the gold-flecks in
her eyes smiled at me.
                                **
 This interm was of course the time for me to have some sort of amazing
insight into what was going on. Needless to say, in the time it took for me
 to get another hot chocolate (and coffee of course) and for Jennifer to
return I was pretty much where I started. The only thing tidier was the
table (I'dd packed the stories up.).
                                **

 "It's difficult." She said. "You can't even imagine it and I was supposed
to be the one who was to show you and try and explane it."
 "Huh?" 
 "I'm not making sense am I." Her brow furrowed slightly in frustration
and thought. 
 "Alright." Sipping on her chocolate again. "I want you to look at look at
the world from my perspective."  
 "O.K..I'll try."
 "Good." she actually smiled.
 "That's all anyone can ask. Now picture this. You live your life and then
*bang*" She winced. "You find yourself hit by a car and you die without
regaining conciousness....now you would expect that would be pretty much
it - I know I did. Then, there you are looking at the world from a new
perspective  - behind the scenes so to speak. You come to realize that you
are (or were) simply a piece of fiction for somebodies' enjoyment -not a
pleasant thought if you were supposed to be a main part of the cast. Are
you following me?"
 "I think so...um...how about yes and no."
 "I'm a patient person. I mean how'd you think I met Ian?"
 "You just bumped into him. You both weren't looking where you..." I
trailled of when I saw that smile as she gently shook her head.
 "You may have written it that way." She said "But remember, it's a matter
of perspective isn't it? What if I had WANTED to bump into him?"
 I stared at her and closed my mouth a moment after.
 She nodded. "I think you are beggining to see...Just because you write us
does not mean you control us." She pused a second."Well not all of us all
the time." She amended.
 She stood and took my arm.
 "Come on...I've got someone who wants to meet you. And,"she glanced at
the sky, now a dark slate not black."It's not getting any later."
 We got up and she led me to the parking lot.
 As we got in the blue VW bug she answerd my unspoken question "I picked
it up in some part of your subconcious -cheap. And yes, the heater still
doesn't work."
 We drove the next five minutes in silence. I was coping rather well I
thought and wondered who we were going to meet. suddenly I rememberd the
story I was reading a revengefic...but no...I was Mr. Slacker...all I had
written were a few poems..well and that little love scene between Royoga
and Ranma. I shuddered. No, that was only a few lines in some C&C. It
wasn't grounds for some dark and inspired (or even an uninspired) hell. 
 We finally pulled up at a warehouse in the industrial park. Jennifer
killed the engine and got out. I followed.
 "In there." She gestured towards the door.
 "What about you?"
 "Hey, I'm just the driver. But I will be in a bit later."
 I opened the door and stepped inside.
 It was entirely a different place than I expected. Well-lit in front the
place was like a small stage with a podium.  Where the audience sat
however was dark. I started of thinking I was in some bad spy movie and
was about to report to "the Omega 9" or something...I hoped not.
  "Please step up to the mike." An almost familiar voice startled me and I
moved foreward slowly. 
 "Hurry up, we have to get started. And," Now there was a tone of menace
(whether it was real or not I had no idea) You have so little time."
 I stepped up to the podium and a figure stepped out of the shadows.
 I gaped. 
 Of all the things I worried about it "Was this." The figure finished my
thoughts. "The only thing that really ment anytthing when it came to
terror. My doppleganger. Me with a beard. And you thought Spock was
spooky." he continued.

  
___________________________________________________________________________
     Nene   Nene    Nene    Nene    Nene    Nene    Nene    Nene    Nene   
                    I met a Lady in the Meads,
                    Full beautiful, a faery's child,
                    Her hair was long, her foot was light
                    And her eyes were wild.
                                            J.Keats
  ________________________________________________________________________    
           Agent Of Chaos. Robyn, Duke of Amber. Unicorn Knight
 ****************************************************************************