The intrepid binary pair, Librarian Millie and the employee who is searching for mythical Sheridarp, have reached the roof of the Dreamwalk Library. Rather than the urban environment they’d expected, their surroundings are desolate, and an unfriendly cloud of wasps is approaching. Part 1 is here.
Imperturbable Millie ignored the fearsome kilowasp.
I’m thinking that your so-called Sheridarp
is just a symbol, merely naming
what your soggy heart is seeking.
It stands for what you’ve never found.
I considered my reply.
Should I comment on the penguins
taking selfies, conjecturing
that they were denizens of Sheridarp?
Or perhaps I’d keep my counsel.
Scout wasps from the mother cloud
were buzzing all around us,
and my open mouth
might prove to be inviting.
Before I could decide,
a curiously dysmorphic shape
appeared above the parapet.
It alighted on the rooftop
and sidled over for a tête-à-tête
The creature was a contradictory miasma,
animate and not, perilously dull,
a silhouette reminiscent of a stranger,
of a ski mask draped across a fur-lined
overcoat hanging in a disused wardrobe.
I knew at once: it was a Dark Solarian.
Without a word of greeting,
the creature held its arms outstretched,
and points of coruscating light
glowed in Millie’s aura.
It was as if they’d always been there,
but only now were visible.
The creature drew her brightness to itself,
and as it did, Millie shed more light,
a radiant continuum peaking
at 380 nanometers,*
streaming to the Dark Solarian.
It was draining Millie’s life force,
the luminosity of her being.
The rooftop penguins cowered in the corners,
but I stood firm. My plan was simple
and impressively naïve:
I’d distract the Dark Solarian,
and Millie would be saved
when I sacrificed myself.
Mother penguins would tell their chicks
my story, hopefully embellished somewhat.
to continue in hexadecimal
*One of the penguins had a spectrometer handy.
artwork remembered by the penguins (detail above)