Ted (merovingian) wrote,
Ted
merovingian

Oversocialized, and also haunted

The four of us (Alpha, Baker, Charlie and I) went to the city to check out the graffiti. Alpha's a comparative linguist who never really meant to get tangled up with the rest of this; of the four of us, she's the one who carries a pistol, after the incident with the big spiders. Baker thinks the whole graffiti phenomenon is the cities trying to talk to us; he's an economist and a fairly reckless goetic, and he wants to cut a deal. Charlie used to be a reporter for the Chronicle until she filed the graffiti story and got fired; one night she dreamt she flew to the sun and ever since then she's been able to understand every language.

I'm really not sure why they all invite me along. Probably because I'm the only one with a car.

Anyway, we did our standard thing: drove to an intersection, picked which direction seemed more run down and poverty-stricken, and headed in that direction, until there was enough graffiti to satisfy us. We stopped near the warehouses.

Alpha filmed the whole thing with commentary, while Baker doused with a pendulum. Charlie and I shared a thermos of coffee and made fun of them, but it was Charlie who noticed the wolves coming around the corner.

Six wolves total. I started in the car while Alpha took a few potshots at them. Baker, never one to play it safe, took pictures of the next piece of graffiti while everyone else tore into the car.

I noticed that his shadows, off the streetlight, were reaching up to grab him while I drove toward him. He jumped onto the hood and we drove away. The wolves and shadows pursued us for a few blocks.

We stopped at a late-night McDonalds and went over the pictures of the graffiti. I still think they're advertisements from aliens, for products we can't understand.

What do you think they mean?



In any case, I think I'll try to have a pleasant, quiet evening tomorrow night. Too much social life leaves me all tired out.
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