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picture story mol iss dug  


They did not break through, more that the air was less true and they were here. Maybe they showered clean in a rainbow mist that undressed and caressed, or that could have been another story.
Molly passed Issy a robe to wear. ‘Some come a little more prepared here, its not as though I’m a spare here, known somewhat by the lines on my face, before I erase with the taste of my mouth.’
Issy was looking around, the place was filled with boxes neatly labelled. Then wind and smoke was all she found to see here. Then again there was no room for her here, taking all the space were beings of horror and beauty, dancing and sensuously undulating to entice her. The place was an invention to distract Issy’s attention from the depths to which they’d come. ‘Is it better, for you I mean, as it is, or do you want me strangled here. Just like an arse I think I will pass on all the amusements your planning for me. I see the signs but eventually are you wanting me to feel the pain, is it a game for you, should I pretend that I like it, is that the done thing and how free are these waters we’re drowning in?’
Molly was concentrating on conviction, if she willed the bed to be, then it was. She ignored Issy’s questions, the normal doubts of any arrived from there to here. ‘You’re with me, so come and believe in us, a party farty thing. Be as loose as me, then oh yes you will see that here there is a reason but its flecked with bits of truth, considered quite uncouth to be wanting more.’
The bed was a sailing ship through what might be a night if they had one. Fully rigged with destiny sails, galley filled with everything nice and puppy-dog tails, silent running, except when the cannons blast; complex of course, then we all are here. A cruise from somewhere near, plying the pleasure line. Molly opened a book within and invited Issy to see. ‘Dirty dungeon dolts, defecating dreams here, maybe so. Have a care though, you find as wishes makes it so in this place. Reap what you sew, you piss anyone here they’re apt to turn quite nasty. Keep your business to yourself and don’t believe all are true, if they’re asking you your name its best to lie.’
Issy looked inside the book, felt and found, then wished she didn’t. ‘Do you want me fucked or stirred here?’ She found her name was already a prominent stain throughout the letters. ‘Better for you I feel kind of blue, a foreign country, would that be better for us?’ Now lust, then celibacy, there was no middle way to this tale. All its romance started so well but inevitably ended with betrayal. ‘I prefer it better now if you reduce the weight that is hanging down on me, is that some kind of penalty, a border control that you are pasting without waiting for an answer.’ Issy squirmed upon the bed. ‘Although I’m stretched I feel that one day you will provide the answer to the question I don’t know here. She touched her lips and mimed a thought. “Here.” I say that many times as though I know the place. It seems to me a ghostly air forgotten and forbidden, a place I care not to fare in.’
Molly looked up. ‘What’s that you say?’ She was busy searching for another self to be. ‘If its better for us, where is the touch that I’m needing? See me at home but I might have to change my appearance, sometime a dog, sometime just more than this.’
Issy herself was deceiving at the edges, every thought she had could lead her to be another. ‘Is this some kind of joke, the smoke you’re turning into. Around me you waste away and reappear at the end looking pleased. Its just that I believe in you, don’t embarrass me by being untrue now, you can be wrong, you can be right, I don’t care.’
Spinning a cloak Molly settled on some kind of shape for now. ‘I spy with my little eye that you are having your self a resentment, go right ahead, its allowed, no one do care, for now we are friends, feel free to hate me as much as you want to. Its the done thing to stretch yourself and let your feelings flow freely, flutter around, forgotten before, here they are cherished and known, given a kiss and wished the wellest they may be, blinking at light they never know in the real place.’
The next door neighbour was a thief, providing relief with the certainty of her dishonesty. Molly invited her round, hoping she might steal the general air of distrust. Playing at hostess Molly dug up some ancient liquor, the thief took hers neat, Issy asked for a glass. The thief made a toast to Issy. ‘We are so good, or maybe not bad, its a pejorative we hang suspended. So make yourself at home here, we are not asking from you, so please wish us better ‘cos we need all the help we can get.’
The ship was sailing deeper now, past darkest deeds and help not given. Then the choppy space of puffed up postures and preening mirrors. Issy picked at the floating books but they were just window dressing. ‘If we can be just anything what would I be now, a cream puff to make you salivate, a dirty linen tool so you can have your fun with me and I don’t stain the sheets. A present for you, am I here, or am I an offering to all your filthy friends I see hovering just beyond my line of sight?’
A pang in the chest, a message to Molly her guest had been receiving scant attention. Not wanting the guilt she plucked it out and set it to sail on its own. ‘I’m sorry if your getting a funny picture of me the reception here is bad and I might seem to be something else.’ Molly turned to properly look at Issy, seeing that this place was having its effect and that Issy was glowing with glamour. ‘If I sound crude just blame the neighbours, they’re a wicked lot, I would teach them better manners but they don’t believe in them; lost forgotten things, they don’t feel a need to be polite. I get to see the light but they are night time burners, pop in a dream is their only release from this place, a repository of all the old and rotten feelings, they mix up a drink and call it love but its just an illusion aint it.’
Issy dived in swimming through the sea of might have been, the rotting slights of truth. ‘If I believe in you do I have to choose which one you are, fighting free to conquer me with the tales that’s been told about your prowess. More or less the same as you said before, only this time I’m believing they’re true, its the feel of this place that provides validity to them.’ Issy looked around for her memories as a child, she found them in a box marked, ‘careful.’ She opened anyway, took one look and tried to cram them back, their whispers pushed her down until Molly hauled her up to the safety of the ship.
‘You are praying now, don’t believe I’ve see you on the floor before, although now its heaving, don’t rock the boat please.’
Forgetting was easy, you make up your mind and its gone but the stain of it stays and has links to the gone where its not. ‘Seen enough, do you like me? I’m never sure before if anyone really can. I’m a bit of a miss and take, get so needy, greedy for a passion that I’m lashing to the floor, just to make sure it stays true.
Their poses were washed clean in a second, every stance without real romance a bore here. ‘Now you’ve got everybody kneeling just like you, they believe in you, I wish they would believe in me.’