First Page Saturday: OH MY GOD! MY GIRLFRIEND'S A BARBARIAN… (Or POLITICIAN? can’t decide)

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OH MY GOD! MY GIRLFRIEND’S A BARBARIAN… (Or POLITICIAN? can’t decide)

A Sharp Edged Narrative of Characters Tangled Up In the Passion Realm

…AND SOME MEN ARE FROM GRAMMATIKA CHALLINGA

And the moral of this dream (Tet) is, don’t take lifestyle lessons from cultural newcomers-obviously.

Once, enclosed within a time cycle, a ten year one, there were six living entities bound by the laws of material nature moving as individuals inside a complete whole. Constantly engaged in profit-minded service this handful of living beings, it should be mentioned, have read the right books but in the wrong order. One of these transient, presently earthbound beings is Omni and his girlfriend/shrink was Neon Light. Neon, working late tying up some loose ends, planned to surprise Omni and Nivea with his favourite, a triple cheese-on-triple cheese (with extra grilled cheese and kidney beans) on a dingy-sized pizza, big enough for three of them to share. If she stayed over then from Blackfriars it’d be easy for her to walk to Tri-Kilo before commercial markets opened. Neon was at a great point in her life now, after being led astray, finding her way back…slowly. She loved her job, she loved hanging out with her boyfriend and old chum at there shared flat. Finally, she was gradually beginning to feel like the point of life where you wait for something to happen, was passing, and the best part was yet to come. She hadn’t spoken to her annoying parents in ages, gladly. Whenever father called to say he’d touched down and was holding discussions near, especially at his consulting house, the Analyses Of Finite Commodities Affiliates, a large consultancy building for fiscal members in Immortal Approachville, she always made sure she was out the area or previously engaged, getting her big brother Nick to cover (to Nick’s half-amazement at the length of this family feud and his half-presumption that it would only continue, unless she had a proper one-on-one with their mother). Yes, the time had come for a truce in the parent-daughter war which she first initiated, and now it seemed all involved were softening with age so sit down talks were fast becoming inevitable. Their final camel’s back incident years ago came about when she ducked out of University, because of pre-romanticized ideas of it being some ridged academics sanctum of literature where one could successfully transmigrate from apprentice to master. When she got to Uni, the one in west Zone1 and supposedly rated fourth best in the country, it became apparent that this was not to be the case. Neon returned back from her family ponderings of yesteryear, and refocused her eyes to turn off her CPU and prepare to leave work.
But freakishly at the same time, Vienna was hailing a black cab with Nick following, watching, then tracking behind from a safe distance. The cab’s "on duty’ light came on as it pulled over so Nick ran back to his own car with a head full of determined spears, ready to pounce with questions when she reached her destination, a destination that Nick was unaware of. His levels of suspicion were beginning to reach a plateau. In separate vehicles and a few cars apart they entered Tri-Kilo. She stopped outside the Shadowless Towers east-facing car park entrance. It was now his levels of suspicion reached its peak! She paid the cab driver, looked up, and around. Since their blazing row the sky had completely darkened for the night and the spotless streets, usually busy with brokers, and traders, rushing back and fourth across squares were completely empty. She went over to one of the large, air-carrier-sized metal shutters sealing Shadowless off from the outside world and began to tamper about with the flashing digilock. Nick watched from his parked car, battling with Mr P Actience, undecided on what step to take next. He grabbed his moby balancing the two merits of, phoning her to scream that he was fifty meters behind and psychotic, against what Mr P Atience was whispering in his mind, advising that he first: wait and see why in Krsna’s paramantra was she entering his place of work when 731 Filter Systems was down the block and, why she was using a key thought up until a heartbeat ago, impossible to be in her possession. But see now, this was a different game, and he wanted confirmation of exactly what she was playing at there, as the fibre optic interface, the only light anywhere near the shutters, illuminated her steamy breath. He observed, thinking, with Vienna, trying to look as nonchalant as possible in her big dark coat and handbag, stepping under, by now, rising shutters into the darkness of the car park.

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