Also warmed porridge 

Yorkshire jokers blue flamed jugglers

I’m sorry about this message 

Getting her back 

Lost like my friends 

But her especially 

I’m eating warmed porridge out of Earthly bowls

Rubbish fills the seats of the theater 

I only watch, eating and seeing

Juggling in the past

What a strange thing fire sends me

Each of the months and days I have spent

Searching 

Airs dragons and clouds 

Waters floods and hidden self hate

Earths desire and enormous distance 

Fires jugglers and death 

I know this puzzle so well

But then

Hello father 

Flames are my favorite part of my death

Remember that day

We all fought 

Hard and long

Leave me to play with fire

A while longer

Leptus 1

It began in the heart of the darkest of Geni’s daughters, Mangal. 

Though calling them that still is foolish for a Scientist such as I. They are really Moons. 7 habitatal moons orbiting a gas giant called Geni. I’m told though making it a more compelling story requires ms to make it sounds all mysterious and mythic. 

Boring scientific reports do not last the generations. 

“Kelli? What are you up to?” 

“I’m dictitating Gina. I’m trying to get a historical context to the Leptus virus.” 

Gina looked at me somewhat sympathetically. “Let me look.” She jumped up upon my lap and read the screen.

“Oh this is no good. It’s got to start at the last possible moment to make a good story.” Gina started typing.

“But! I’m writing this story! It suppose to be a scientific story!” I try and grab the keyboard of her. “Look the dictator is taping this conversation now!”

Gina smiled “Well good. At least it’s not as boring now.” She leapt down back to the floor. 

“I suppose I should be greatful to you? A little help from what is essentially a talking cat?” It just came out of my mouth, I felt horrible about saying it as soon as I had. Like a short stabbing behind the eyes. A kind of sudden hortness. I’m still getting used to having emotions so real and tangible like this. It’s a hard work.

“I’m only a Catum thanks to Leptus. Much like you, own your own condition to the Aforementioned virus. I’m suprised you would attack my character like that.” Gina almost snarled. She arched her back and started to walk away, tail in the air.

“I’m sorry! I’m new to this! You know that. I’m not sure what came over me! Emotion isn’t something I’m used to! Gender isn’t something I’m used to! Life! Eating! Fuck even brething in and out is totally new to me!” I am overcome by frustration. How? I have this massive need to express myself. A woman? A person? How am I supposed to deal with this? Be expected to know all these things? 

“That’s why I’m here. Yes.” Gina looked back at me over her shoulder. “I’m sure that I can help you to do this. To learn your new self. Much as I try to learn to deal with mine. I do have a psychology degree, a much needed and in demand thing. However I shall sacrifice my own time for you. Since your the only known inanimate Leptus sufferer.”

I am in tears, these wet, salty things pouring from my eyes onto clothes that I got. Clothes that I know are universally boring now. I wear  them anyway as I have no idea how to deal with fashion.

“I just don’t even know how to begin. I’m the only one the virus has affected like this. I’m suppose to be a computer! How the hell does a virus affect a computer!” Shouting again, why does my body do so much of this thing? Making noise? Smells? Have hunger? Thirst?

“Oh darling, you are so having a hard time. I think it’s not the time to be writing this book of yours.” Gina started walking towards me again. Not unkindly purring.

I started crying again. What strange week things bodies are. 

Moon staring at a stormcloud

Sitting in her steller mezanine, grey and high, gentle whispers of tears came from Moon

Tendrils of light reflected in the teardrop pool forking its way through the dust near her feet

Stormcloud gathers his strength, at a odd loss to know the ways of the hearts of the Longen

They live so long, see so much. He thought as he edged his way towards Moon. He knew he had but hours to live. It made his tummy rumble and he remembered his own brief youths. Every day he died. Every day he was born. Grew old. Grew up. 

Till he dies just before Sun, his mother gives birth to him again. One of many sons and dughters of the Longen.

Would he ever reach Moon? 

Every day he tried and every night he failed. These gentle wispy tears falling. Falling. 

Stormcloud would never know why.