Borderland Shark

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.::The.Throne::.

Passions roar louder than Thunder

The sun came up washing with light Blumenville, street by street, making the Sunflowers rejoice. At the Sequoia residency, Erica woke up before Robert - This will be a different kind of day - she told herself.

Robert(R): You hear it, right?
Erica(E): Hear what?
R: The Sunflowers on the street, they were singing. Do you believe me now?
E: I don't know what are you talking about, I better get ready and start breakfast for our WoodLord The General.

Robert was always the first one to wake up, he claimed that the song of the Sunflowers on the street did the trick. Erica did hear something that morning, but wasn't exactly a song, it was more like a whisper. She would not admit it, What would be the case of that? It was bad enough to have Robert talking about the voices in the garden for years now.

♫ ♫ ♫

I fall to pieces,
Each time I see you again.
I fall to pieces.
How can I be just your friend?

♫ ♫ ♫

On her way to the kitchen she saluted The General Sequoia ,seated at the head of the dining table, as he has been ever since the disappearance of his wife Ms. Redwood. She felt nostalgic taking the food out of the fridge and pantry to prepare breakfast. Maybe training Joanna as her possible replacement made her feel old. It made her realize that one day she wouldn't be there to serve The General, that one day she would end up in the garden buried next to the Old Maid. She shook those feelings away as Joanna entered the kitchen. There was a lot to do today, the groceries were going to be delivered by Jacqueline and Joanna had scheduled the Electricians to come and fix the stove's broken burner. As she diced fruit, she looked over her shoulder at Joanna. - Would she be ready? Ready to know? - Erica thought. Would she be ready to learn the things she learned from the Old Maid?

♫ ♫ ♫

You want me to act like we've never kissed.
You want me to forget, pretend we've never met.
And I've tried and I've tried, but I haven't yet.
You walk by and I fall to pieces.

♫ ♫ ♫

The Old Maid had been like a mother to Erica, she was the one that thought her all the ways to please The General. And it was from her that Erica learned to be proud to be a servant, learned about the honor of living to please no other but The Great General Sequoia, one of the founders of Blumenville. Old Maid had many stories about The General, his bravery and his sense of justice. And in that moment she remembered that night, the last night she ever saw Ms. Redwood. The Old Maid had rushed her and Robert to the basement, the WoodLords got into a passionate argument like never before. The WoodLords wood creak as they yell at each other making Robert and Erica clenched to motherly Old Maid.

General Sequoia(G): Cannot you see that we were carved for each other? You cannot just leave! We belong together.

Ms. Redwood(M): You don't make me feel alive. Never have.

G: What does life has to do with this? That overrated casualty.

M: Watch me go through that door and remember my back because it is the last thing you will see of me.

G: Where would you go? There is no room waiting for you in any other house. You know I am right.

M: I would go to a place where I am loved.

G: I know I love you, why don't you?

M: How can you know love without passion? You fool!

G: I know I love you for I am enraged to lose you!

M: Get your hands of me! Release my rope!

G: Is this how he likes it? I am told he likes to be against the wall.

M: Let me go!

G: Who is he?! Khaya? Afzelia? I know it must be one of the Mahogany triplets. You think I did not know? That I would not noticed?!

M: You might have been a General at the untold times that commanded respect, but now you are nothing! You are no one! You are obsolete. You never settled into our pax aeterna. He doesn't question our settled ways. He indulge in them and for that he has outrank you as the WoodLord of power and my place should be at his side.

G: Blasphemy! You are wood of my wood! We belong together!

They kept on fighting until Ms. Redwood was heard no more, however the noise coming from the basement ceiling didn't cease until midnight. Erica remembered all the cleaning Old Maid had to do that morning, and The General's last words as she served him breakfast.

E: Excuse me General, Would Ms. Redwood be joining you for breakfast this morning?

G: All she ever wanted was to be next to the throne. She deserved far more, she deserved the throne for she was my queen.

From then on The General remained seated at his new looking red chair, without moving, without speaking. No WoodLord ever went looking for Ms. Redwood, in fact the other humans were the one that noticed that only a single rope could be seen at the Sequoia house. She was pressure by humans at the market to tell where Ms. Redwood was gone. Was she taken by the wood collector? they asked. She thought that by saying yes their thirst for knowing would be satisfied. But she was wrong, she couldn't meet any other human without being ask for more and more details. Eventually she stop going out of the house at all.

♫ ♫ ♫

I fall to pieces,
Each time someone speaks your name.
I fall to pieces.
Time only adds to the flame.

♫ ♫ ♫

Not long after, Erica and Robert had to bury Old Maid in the back yard. Robert planted a twining plant, one of her favorites, on her grave. He called it AltaGracia, that was the first plant he ever named, after that naming plants became something usual for Robert. It kept him busy Erica thought, but as the years passed she found him talking to the garden, laughing by himself. It was clear that Robert would not be the man for her, the man that could love her the way she wanted.

♫ ♫ ♫

You tell me to find someone else to love,
Someone who'll love me too, the way you used to do.
But each time I go out with some one new,
You walk by and I fall to pieces.

♫ ♫ ♫

In fact, there was only one creature in the whole Blumenville that could love as much as she ever dreamed. But his love belonged to someone else, someone gone. He always there, seated at the table and yet so far away. She had even adventure to put her lips against his, hoping that her kiss would somehow wake him up from his stasis. But nothing happened. As the sadness of that memory was filling her heart Jacquelin arrived waking her up from her daydreaming.

♫ ♫ ♫

You walk by and I fall to pieces.

♫ ♫ ♫

Soon after the Electricians showed up. Chatting with then, Erica remembered how much she disliked the outside world. Out there, there were the most absurd ideas going around from human to human, questioning the truths she learned from good Old Maid. As she explained to the Electrician the way she used to operate the stove, she noticed dandelion seeds dancing outside the kitchen window. What had Robert said about the meaning of the dandelion seeds? She couldn't remembered. It was something about his plant, AltaGracia's mood, but Robert use to have so many stories about signs given by the garden. It didn't matter anyway, she never really believe in those stories. She was asked to show how would she use the stove's oven. As she lean forward to show how to place objects inside a rush of sensation came upon her. Her scalp felt tense, her throat felt pain, her chest warm, her nose smelled blood, her face felt wind and her eyes saw darkness ever after.

♫ Patsy Cline - I Fall to Pieces ♫

..:.Der Rosenberg.:..

.

☈

At the distance, visible from every street on Blumenville,
the mountain of the eternal storm stood still.

It was of bad luck to point at it; whenever a storm cloud travelled through town, it was definitely because someone had point at Der Rosenberg. From time to time, the roar of thunders would reach town tensing the ropes of WoodLords and the souls of humans alike. But everyone knew that the best way to deal with Der Rosenberg and the occasional thunder was to simply ignore it. Thus, the life at Blumenville was directed as if there was no Rosenberg at all.

♫ ♫ ♫

Жил-был художник один
Домик имел и холсты
Но он актрису любил
Ту, что любила цветы
Он тогда продал свой дом
Продал картины и кров
И на все деньги купил
Целое море цветов

Миллион, миллион, миллион алых роз
Из окна, из окна, из окна видишь ты
Кто влюблен, кто влюблен, кто влюблен и всерьез
Свою жизнь для тебя превратит в цветы

♫ ♫ ♫

However, such an impressive sight could not be erased from human minds. They try their hardest, but they could not help it. They came up with theories about its existence, its meaning, its role in the world. For some, it was the birthplace of all the rivers of the world. For others, it was the dead bed of the very first WoodLord. Humans would tell stories of how it tried to destroy itself by self-inflicted ablaze but the heavens wouldn’t allow it and created the eternal storm to wash away the flames. And until this day the WoodLord must be up there trying to burn itself; causing the skies to cry and roar to cease the fire.

♫ ♫ ♫

Утром ты встанешь у окна
Может сошла ты с ума
Как продолжение сна
Площадь цветами полна
Похолодеет душа
Что за богач здесь чудит
А под окном чуть дыша
Бедный художник стоит

Миллион, миллион, миллион алых роз
Из окна, из окна, из окна видишь ты
Кто влюблен, кто влюблен, кто влюблен и всерьез
Свою жизнь для тебя превратит в цветы

♫ ♫ ♫

However, such theories didn’t seem to acknowledge the mythical weed that was said to grow at Der Rosenberg. A weed of strong twisting branches covered by sharp thorns, olive colored leaves and blood colored flowers that were able to thrive under the storm. No gardener in Blumenville could claim making acquaintance with such impossible vine. Hence, the Shaved-Top-Hair humans that preached about the miracle of becoming a WoodLord through devotion and servitude resolved the role of the mysterious plant in nature. Disobedient humans, the ShavedTopHair lectured, were reborn as part of this weed in the form of flowers, to experience the winds, thunders, lightnings and cold of the eternal storm.

♫ ♫ ♫

Встреча была коротка
В ночь ее поезд увез
Но в ее жизни была
Песня безумная роз
Прожил художник один
Много он бед перенес
Но в его жизни была
Целая площадь цветов

Миллион, миллион, миллион алых роз
Из окна, из окна, из окна видишь ты
Кто влюблен, кто влюблен, кто влюблен и всерьез
Свою жизнь для тебя превратит в цветы

♫ ♫ ♫

.Алла Пугачева - Миллион Алых Роз ♫

.:Prefaxious:.

Tengo una gran torpeza manual y lo deploro. Me sentiria mejor si mis manos supiesen trabajar. Manos capaces de hacer algo util, de sumergirse en las profundidades del ser y alumbrar en el un manantial de bondad y paz. Mi padrastro (al que llamare mi padre, pues el me educo) era obrero sastre. Era un alma vigorosa, un espiritu realmente mensajero. Decia a veces, sonriendo, que el primer fallo de los clerigos se produjo el dia en que uno de ellos represento a un angel con alas: hay que subir al cielo con las manos.

-Louis Pauwels

.Blumenville.

Once upon a time in a not so far away land,
Where fire was banned.
There was a town up a hill,
Its name Blumenville.

A place with roofless big houses, beautiful gardens and white-picked fences. Its main street flanked by sunflowers as tall as a grown human. Every day you could see the WoodLords strolling down the streets, greeting each other at the park, going through their mundane routines. Their wooden limbs covered with clothing and jewelry made by human hands and a rope coming out of their heads, getting lost in the infinity of the blue sky above.

No one remember who was the first WoodLord or why it took human servants, but tradition has it that every WoodLord owns a group of human slaves. When or how Blumenville was founded it is also unknown. However, the human gardeners guild believes it must be not by mistake.

At every WoodLord house there were small group of humans working day and night, attending the garden, fixing meals, cleaning, and fulfilling the minutest request from their WoodLord. At the inclination of the sunflowers to the west the humans would get ready to prepare their WoodLords’ supper. You would think that creatures made out of wood would have no use for food. But, the thing about WoodLords is that they know, they know things with absolute certainty. Things like hunger, although without a digestive system there is no way for them to know they have had enough. They know of thirst, they know of pride, they know of wrath; but they lack throats to refresh, achievements to brag about, and reasons to hate.

The WoodLord supper was quite the event; they would entertain themselves by inviting each other to show off the culinary creations of their human Cooks. With no further notice to their humans, WoodLords would simply show off during the evening with a guest or two expecting to find a feast worthy enough of jealousy. Oh the jealousy, at times it seemed like the entire town was driven by it. It was with no doubt the preferred WoodLords’ game. Therefore, it took hours for the human cooks to prepare a feast for each day better than the last. Humans were such resourceful creatures that at least in Blumenville they had never let their WoodLords down. But there were rumors among them about what happened to humans that couldn’t keep up with their duties. Like the story about this cook, that forgot to include appetizers at the dinner table, and cut its own fingers and serve them on a plate with cottage cheese instead of facing the wrath of its WoodLord.

There was little time for the humans to talk with humans across the street or even at the house next door, their duties absorb all of their times. So, each house became its own little world. At the end of the day humans would go downstairs to their rooms at the basement, the only place where WoodLords couldn’t enter because of their ropes. However, just before going to sleep, humans would talk, each of them would share with the others the little news they could gather in their errands.

The Maids were usually the ones that bring news about the outside of the house (or how they call it outside of the fence), they would share information among maids at the market buying the groceries for supper. That was how they kept in contact with relatives and learned about human deaths and births. It was also how ideas travelled. It was the maid property of the WoodLord Saucelio Barbas de Rama, the one that promoted the idea that if humans serve the WoodLords the best they can, they would be rewarded by one day becoming WoodLords themselves. She and all the humans at Saucelio’s house had shaved the top of their heads so a rope could fall from the sky, connect to their heads and turn their flesh into wood.

Such ideas made the WoodLords giggle and let their servants do as they please with their hair as long as they kept their houses clean, their tables ready and their gardens beautiful. But not all humans were so enthralled about the idea of becoming WoodLords, there were those that thought humans could not be created to serve such unnatural creatures like the WoodLords. This idea was more prevalent among the Gardeners guild who learning about nature by cultivating the gardens for generations had come to doubt that nature would create creatures like the WoodLords, their very existence was against all they learned from the soil and plants. In secrecy the gardeners questioned the WoodLords origins and their stories about them being the creators of humans and wish for a day when humans would be free to plant their own gardens, cook their own meals and clean their own roofed houses.

The gardeners were not alone, little by little maids and cooks from other houses had come to the same conclusions. There were those that wanted to get rid of all WoodLords, there were those that wanted to live as equals with the WoodLords and those that wanted to enslave the WoodLords. However, they all kept their heads low as advice by the oldest human in Blumenville, only known as The Seamstress. She was born into servitude for the Bamboola WoodLords many, many moons ago. She told stories about a time were humans ruled the world, about a world with no WoodLords, about a God worshiped by humans that lived within the heavens and a feared Demon that slept in the undergrounds.

Old crazy lady fantasies most humans said. Or maybe even worse others thought. Maybe she told those stories by her WoodLord orders to learn who was a disobedient human and could be punished. Because, really… A god that lives in the sky and a demon in the underground? Such a clear WoodLord propaganda they thought: “We are heavenly creatures as our ropes are given by the sky god itself and you humans that live at our basements are demonic creatures.” But regardless what humans believed in, they all listened to her warnings as she had been right so many times before. She predicted that terrible blizzard that froze humans to dead many moons ago, and also predicted the arrival or the disappearance of WoodLords. This time, all humans were worried by her last prediction:

Fire This Way Comes.

.:Robot Girl looking for Love:.

In Dreams I walk with you...

Robot Girl looking for Love

She wants to know about love, wants to know about marriage,
but she won't get married until she gets everything she needs. Someone on the interwebs gets pitty over her and provide her with thousands of cyberacres so she can get married. Everyone is surprised, even her. Friends try to find out who this misterious provider is, and no one but the Robot Girl was able to figure it out.
When confronted about the identity of her guardian angel, She learns that the woman that help her was her alterego.

Alterego: "How did you know?"
Robot Girl: "Because no one can obsess like I do."

.:Xiu.Xiu:.

.:love.built.on.beauty.:.

Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies.

- John Donne






.image:themthangs