Message-ID: <26433asstr$969541812@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Sean Farragher" <seanfarragher@msn.com>
X-Original-Message-ID: <NEBBKECCILIDDPJFHMPOAEIHCJAA.seanfarragher@msn.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Type: text/plain;
	charset="iso-8859-1"
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit
X-Priority: 3 (Normal)
X-MSMail-Priority: Normal
Importance: Normal
X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V5.50.4133.2400
Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6  Politically Correct Eulogy Liana VII
Date: Thu, 21 Sep 2000 09:10:12 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2000/26433>
X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com>
X-Moderator-ID: RuiJorge, IceAltar

Also From TxM6 Hyperfiction
http://www.txm6.com (updated 9/16/00)
http://www.txm6.com/enfer (updated 9/17/00)
http://www.txm6.com/lcfallon
http://www.farragher.com  (Poetry updated 9/20/00)

TxM6 is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher.

0916XfalseEulogy
Politically Correct Eulogy

Liana Juliana Part VII

"Can life pause on the middle spaces, between 
the note A and C, before settling into banks of 
books for martyrs to stamp "SYMBOL" cased and 
washed on the coins scattered in the graveyard 
where Liana could be anointed and restored?" 


HENRY:
"I love writing a socially but not politically 
correct eulogy. As Liana did not die, I wanted 
to write the opposite of a memorial.  I want 
Liana to live for something beside the cocaine 
we sprinkled as a flavor over sweet Carvel and 
Dairy Queen."

She softly didn't die in my arms," Henry cried. 
"I didn't do her, ever, not once, or her me. I 
am innocent, and no one will believe it. 

One night, as I drove back from the city, Liana
said I was a serpent, and when devoured I was
regurgitated as God Osiris, and she was Isis,
my sister-wife. She claimed that Keb and Nut
were our parents, and that Horus was our son
who woke the day. Isn't that the perfect role
for an all night cab driver?

Speaking quietly to himself, Henry proclaimed 
that Liana had in the near perfect present 
exchanged favors for taxi rides to score that, 
which brought her sleep. She had become, as an 
addict, another member of the World's Fair 
Nuclear Drug Review and Cab Driver Help Society. 

"We killed her, but she actually didn't die," 
Henry mesmerized said with a sudden drop in tone 
that signified I resign or quit.  "Who can we 
protect, Henry asked? What does any right or 
wrong justify, Henry continued. It is more what 
we don't do that sets in motion the tragic. We 
cannot avoid responsibility, and to do that, we 
become incapable not only of knowing right from 
wrong, but that space between where decisions 
and righteousness are no longer in conflict."

"She's beautiful one bystander said, catching a 
glimpse of her face, as they lifted her into 
ambulance." 

"She is dark, graceful, intelligent, and died 
for escape," Henry added, "and she will soon be 
gone, never to return."

"Where the fuck you sending her Henry," the 
Gadfly appeared out of air and circled fires 
waiting for a chance to add his two cents to the 
conversation, if you can call it that. 

Henry," Christ Tina said, looking away, grim, 
holding Henry's hand, for better or worse 
ignoring the Gadfly."

Nothing stays constant, Christ Tina giggled. A 
nervous laugh. The kind that settles hard in 
your heart.

Henry loved Christ Tina. Liana should have had 
the same love. We all could, the Gadfly, 
miserable, paced. I am tired of you all, he 
shook his fist, and the dark ran solid in our 
eyes, but then rosy dawn set sail again, hold 
nothing back, the Gadfly warned. "Keep it 
honest," he spat. And, for a while, the world 
was almost sane.

When Liana woke up the next morning, hungry for
her meat and potatoes, she called Hudson Street Cabs.

Car #4 Henry arrived ten minutes later. He got her
the smack she needed. "It's too easy to die," she said.

"Shit," Henry said. Just the word shit. 

Maybe I should fucken kill her, Henry thought. Or fuck
her. Why not. She's dead anyway. Might as well get some.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository |
|<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations.         |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+