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From: "Lyra" <earthwalked@earthwalking.com>
Subject: Introduction of a Coffee House Dweller
To: wblake@wblake.net
Hello,
I hope you aren't surprised that I am writing you, though I suppose you
could leave written-on napkins behind you wherever you have occasion to
write on napkins and have strangers give all women your business card...
but I'm hoping that's not the case.
My name is Deborah. And now, since you've given me a long glimpse into
your creative mind, I'll return the favor:
(personal works deleted to protect them)
-Lyra
From: wblake@wblake.net
Subject: Reply of a Fellow
To: "Lyra" <earthwalked@earthwalking.com>
Lyra,
Hello. Call me William.
No, I have been talking to you. I perceive in you a like-mind. I have
enjoyed enflaming your sense of mystery with my littered thoughts. Please,
never mind my playing; I am pleased to meet you.
Your works are as interesting and self-focal as you are. Beautiful to
see someone so engaging their own mind and Imagination. You must continue
on, always force yourself to higher expanses.
Tell me more of yourself. Ask me any questions. I am always an enacted
thought away.
Sincerely,
William
From: "Lyra" <earthwalked@earthwalking.com>
Subject: Musings
To: "William" <wblake@wblake.net>
William,
What a speedy reply!
I visited your website, yet I observe nothing there. Why do you hold a
domain, yet no presence within that domain?
As for more about myself: I am a (supposedly) graduating senior at Huntingdon
College. A double major in Biology and Mythology with a minor in English,
if you can believe it. Truth be told, I'll be glad to graduate this year.
I've become pretty aggravated with the institution. Everything's just
getting so fucked up there.
Observe, an excerpt from a parody I wrote on Huntingdon:
Daria and Jane enter into a large forum, already in progress. A large
room, suspiciously arrayed like a chapel with pews and an organ, is teeming
with students and professors. They quietly sit down in a back pew, thrilled
to be witnessing something they’re not meant to.
Speaker: …well, you see, we did have a very conservative stock portfolio that we poured a great deal of your money into. We lost only 1.5 million dollars of the school’s money. This is not a bad thing; after all, we still have the shirts on our backs unlike other people…
The authority figure speaking at the front of the hall is being drowned out by the angry murmurs of a dissenting and confused student body. A small woman with important looking hair and a face that looks permanently arrayed in a pleasing public expression steps up to the microphone, pompously adjusting it and looking out across the sea of angry faces with self-assured equanimity.
President: Look, the point is not that we grossly mismanaged our money. The point is that we now must fire some professors and perhaps cut out entire departments to cover up for the mistake. So, don’t worry your little heads over that. Huntingdon is not going to close. We whore ourselves out to any institution that has some money to spend, and, while this may tie up some of your reserves during the school year, we’ll still have a small number of professors to teach you and mildly rundown facilities, most without handicap access, to teach you in. By the way, we only have time for two more questions as this chapel must be ready in twenty minutes for the Regional Podiatrists’ Association brunch meet ‘n’ greet. The somewhat useless dancer in the third row: what was your question?
Dancer: Should we dancers be concerned about our program?
President, quickly: We haven’t discussed anything yet and are still looking into all options, so of course not, dear.
Dancer: But, if you don’t know how can you say of course not…
President, ignoring the dancer: Yes, the misanthropic-looking child in the very back.
Daria, with a banana: So you took money necessary for the continued peak function of the college and kept it in a volatile market that was facing imminent recession. Smart. So, was this food out front for the prospective students or the Regional Podiatrists’ Association?
The President stands silently for a moment, then raises one hand and nods her head in a signal. Two cheerful students, with the blank looks of automatons, take both Daria and Jane firmly by the elbows. They begin tugging them out of the chapel.
/excerpt
Anyway, I tend to think of myself of getting out while the getting's good
and I'm thankful it worked out that way. And sorry to vent on you like
that.
Self-focal? Well, I do suppose I tend to explore the inner much more thoroughly
than the outer... especially in my poetry. I just feel that understanding
lay through our inner life. Our soul is what connects us to the world,
and how we all feed back into each other, that sort of thing.
Erm, well I've come across as weird enough already.
Until next time,
Lyra
From: "William" <wblake@wblake.net>
Subject: Imagined Flights
To: "Lyra" <earthwalked@earthwalking.com>
Lyra,
I withhold the domain for personal uses. I have yet to decide whether
I wish to create a strong web presence for my artistic endeavors, but
I like having immediate access to all possibilities. You'll forgive the
eccentricity.
Beside this e-mail personality with which you converse, the rest of my
online body is obfuscated and very cunning. Perhaps I'll reveal more to
you in the future as you bear out my trust.
Your weirdness is exceeded by your creativity. No worries. Coffee? Same
time, same place?
Respectfully,
William
From: "Lyra" <earthwalked@earthwalking.com>
Subject: Re: Imagined Flights
To: "William" <wblake@wblake.net>
William,
You? Drink coffee? ;) But, yes, see you then.
-Lyra