Message-ID: <40827asstr$1044958203@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: From: "Sean Farragher" X-Original-Message-ID: MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Priority: 3 (Normal) X-MSMail-Priority: Normal Importance: Normal X-MimeOLE: Produced By Microsoft MimeOLE V6.00.2800.1106 X-ASSTR-Original-Date: Mon, 10 Feb 2003 22:32:47 -0500 Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapter #106 "Fucking Death" Date: Tue, 11 Feb 2003 05:10:03 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation X-Story-Submission: X-Moderator-ID: gill-bates, dennyw If you have missed any parts of Taxi Murders the Novel, they are archived on ASSM -Google and at my web site. I welcome feedback in email. sfarragher@nj.rr.com Chapters 1-80 are available at my site. Updates will be posted at least weekly. Thanks, Sean http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook Taxi Murders the Novel -- Chapter 106 "Fucking Death" One Politically Correct Eulogy (c) 2003 Sean Farragher sfarragher@nj.rr.com http://www.seanfarragher.com http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook/ TxM6: Taxi Murders The Novel Chapter #106 "Fucking Death" -- Politically Correct Eulogy Liana Juliana Fasciano "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. More TxM6 Taxi Murders the Novel http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook END -- 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: | | FAQ: Moderator: | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}| |Archive at Hosted by | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+