Circle I.6: Quo Vadis
A letter from his missing friend Iorp had very bizarre content.
"TO POIEO TO ON
If fall leaves,
If dawn shades,
If anyone,
And who?
Knows that this world is
Not the one.
(Don't look for me
I'm just gone.)
We'll met, maybe, in other age
Or even on the odd page.
In addition to the strange poem, there was the name of the book "Designing - Reality - Deconstructing - Fantasy", written by Rade Becsei. Words on the cover were in the form of the cross, so title could even be "Designing - Fantasy - Deconstructing - Reality", if read counterclockwise. Rastoder has obtained a book in public library. Book was strange almost as a poem. And that was just all that has been left from his friend.
Monika, sexy widow, strange message, subsequently a book - he was quite confused. Transcending over moist carpet of the autumn leaves, he returned back home.
Vera was still there. She has just showered, then made him a strong coffee. Rastoder liked idea of having someone to wait and care for him. Even if it was just a broad interest. He went for an examination job, like a real investigator. Started from Telekom information service.
- I need Becsei phone number please.
- Becsei... Becsei Rade, key cutter. - he instantly got a number. It was all too easy.
- I've invited some friends, here, tonight. - Vera digressed. She had great tight buttocks.
- Yes, yes... No problem. - Rastoder responded. Then, he called key cutter.
- 'Allo! Key cuttering service. - senile voice answered.
- Mister Becsei?
- It's me. - said the old man.
- Me... I'm Rastoder... Friend of Iorp's...
- You are the man I'm waiting for. Just come by, have an address?
"What is happening?" Rastoder has wondered. It seemed like he was involving himself into some kind of provincial conspiracy. But why? Why should he involve into that? If there is a good reason, why not? Name of the one good reason was - Monika. So he decided to continue his weird adventures.
- Listen, Istvan, I need some cash. You may like livin' like a monk, but I don't. I wanna shop, buy things. Food and beverages, you know. - Vera was straight. A young squab determined to became a dove. Survivalist. He liked her more and more.
- Ok. Clean this mess first. Deal?
- Gimme four hundreds and it's a deal.
Money was not, properly speaking, his problem.
"TO POIEO TO ON
If fall leaves,
If dawn shades,
If anyone,
And who?
Knows that this world is
Not the one.
(Don't look for me
I'm just gone.)
We'll met, maybe, in other age
Or even on the odd page.
In addition to the strange poem, there was the name of the book "Designing - Reality - Deconstructing - Fantasy", written by Rade Becsei. Words on the cover were in the form of the cross, so title could even be "Designing - Fantasy - Deconstructing - Reality", if read counterclockwise. Rastoder has obtained a book in public library. Book was strange almost as a poem. And that was just all that has been left from his friend.
Monika, sexy widow, strange message, subsequently a book - he was quite confused. Transcending over moist carpet of the autumn leaves, he returned back home.
Vera was still there. She has just showered, then made him a strong coffee. Rastoder liked idea of having someone to wait and care for him. Even if it was just a broad interest. He went for an examination job, like a real investigator. Started from Telekom information service.
- I need Becsei phone number please.
- Becsei... Becsei Rade, key cutter. - he instantly got a number. It was all too easy.
- I've invited some friends, here, tonight. - Vera digressed. She had great tight buttocks.
- Yes, yes... No problem. - Rastoder responded. Then, he called key cutter.
- 'Allo! Key cuttering service. - senile voice answered.
- Mister Becsei?
- It's me. - said the old man.
- Me... I'm Rastoder... Friend of Iorp's...
- You are the man I'm waiting for. Just come by, have an address?
"What is happening?" Rastoder has wondered. It seemed like he was involving himself into some kind of provincial conspiracy. But why? Why should he involve into that? If there is a good reason, why not? Name of the one good reason was - Monika. So he decided to continue his weird adventures.
- Listen, Istvan, I need some cash. You may like livin' like a monk, but I don't. I wanna shop, buy things. Food and beverages, you know. - Vera was straight. A young squab determined to became a dove. Survivalist. He liked her more and more.
- Ok. Clean this mess first. Deal?
- Gimme four hundreds and it's a deal.
Money was not, properly speaking, his problem.
posted by Istvan Rastoder at 10:49 AM
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