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Subject: {ASSM} From TxM6 Seance MFMF with spirit Christ Tina Part I
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Date: Mon, 17 Jul 2000 03:10:02 -0400
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From TxM6 Taxi Murders Sextet Hyperfiction Novel
http://www.taximurders.com
This work is entirely a work of fiction for adults only.
Copyright (c) 2000 Sean Farragher
Journal of Henry Whitman
Laurie Catherine Fallon, 27, (speaking)
"I am a clich plucked from the "Pits of Plague," a previously
unknown painting by Pierre Auguste Renoir," Laurie said. "I
live in pastel pinks and rose while others ferment as yellow
tallow dripping from the lights of his other dark painting,
"Prison Romance."
Lifting her hair high above her head, shaking fermenting milky
breasts above the rain clouds flooding the virgin tectonic
landscape with the river Piss. Organic Cum in the flitter of
fire work lightning strikes nitrous oxides, formaldehyde and
hydro cyanic acid fusing nitrogen as tri or sextet valence
into heptagonal and hexagonal rings.
All great sex stirs as pot mingles dire lubrication that
results in mock protection for horse studs and pony riders who
claim to be innocence of abuse when indeed they practiced it
without deceit or ruse. They just fucken did it.
Flaunting that sway Laurie was not amazed by the immediate
response of her let down reflex. She remembered how it felt
when the Milk Rivers flowed. Tickling back to memory in
Gainesville with wild dogs and barking raccoons. The menagerie
of desolate stepfathers who raped my child ass while Mama
sang. Yes, Laurie admitted. I did, after the first times,
seduce back, but then what I did in response to lost childhood
should not be held against or bestow upon those rapists any
mitigation of sentence. They are dead eyes and my dreams will
implicate more than the silly fiends who luckily do not know
that I cannot die. Riding that horse or man backward I was
immediately drawn into my mother's cunt, that soothing quim,
where I suckled too, when she was too drunk to provide milk. I
came inside that disorderly range. She came louder. Christ
Tina orchestrated the dysfunction. I play at the bikers with
the short pricks sucking them and drugged with them I watch
two of them play the squatting female and taking up their
asses, they kiss with tangled beards and I was amused. At ten
anything is funny. Momma laughed too. She spoke the parts of
the movie and discourteous as this sounds they fucked up the
parts. I, Laurie, should have played the most noble of
sinners. I came loud in my Harley riding US 1 from Gainesville
at ten with a fake tampon and my own diaphragm.
10/20/1992
Henry, Aaron and Angela had gathered to celebrate Laurie's
27th birthday. Laurie's friends did not intend a s ance, but
it happened.
Missing six months, presumed dead, Laurie appeared as ghost or
a fraction of shared dreams. Startled, Angela said that Laurie
never looked more beautiful. "When she was 17, I painted her
with angel wings, you remember, Henry. She wanted you then,
but you were tired of children, so you said. Angela smirked at
the irony.
"Death is transfiguration," Aaron added.
Laurie whistles quietly under the honest chords of Pink Floyd
and Aqualung: "I am not dead. This connection is to extend
your faith, that I am alive and have risen. Why did you not
come Henry to push the stone away? I lived in that cave for
thousands of years.
"Christ Tina came. She rescued by orgasm. That spirit flew
with the clouds of Holy Mother ripping out the stone and
marrow of the earth, driving the thieves from the temple (or
wine cellar), and then fucking them one by one, making them
fall to their deaths in sexual excess.
"No holes," Tina said, Laurie continued. "She promises 'when I
wake from the dream', I would live.
"Tina blew three cocks and predicted from reading the splatter
of semen (tea leaves are old fashioned) on black paper, three
things would happen to set me free.
"First, she freed the father of Abel. James Albert Caine IV
who would win a second CMA for valor lived in a village in
Thailand. He had been a cripple for seventeen years. Fed and
housed by his following, Caine stood up and was healed, his
body set free. He promptly set out for what he assumed was
Saigon. He assumed it was still 1975. He didn't remember the
explosion or how his legs were burned to stumps.
Let us not feel sorry for Caine. He was a murderer. He was the
father of Abel and like the father the son with the help of
his half sister (different father) murdered in the same
manner. No genetic code. Just fake music.
From 1963-1965 Cain murdered seven London women. He didn't
know their names, nor did anyone. They were not real. All
faces of Christ Tina. Tina was jealous of Mary Gail who had
Caine first. Tina hated Victoria for having Caine second.
Tina celebrated that lie that Caine was a murderer. He only
pretends to be a great solider but actually, Caine is a
coward.
Christ Tina made him heroic and suffered that irony with her
wry laugh that she evokes mocking all men as extreme He will
serve life again, she said.
Second, I learned that my father was Malachi and not Huw
Fallon. The seeds were mixed, she said, and she made sure I
had the most righteous man for a father. He was the only one
of the men I knew as stepfathers that did not take me to their
bed and fuck between my rear legs or watch while I masturbated
them and myself, my mother sucking their cock, or I my
mother's cunt. Yes, my mother abused me, which is what Tina
said.
Third, she gave Abel a conscience. She advised me to kill
Lilith when she gave birth to her brother Caine's child. I
killed her, and set the infant free as they did my daughter. I
hope you call her Molly.
Tina said, and I believe, that these three individual acts
would set me free. I am not free today, but I have full faith
in her devotion and I suck at her cunt every night just for
the plain joy of singing to Mother God.
Christ Tina also claimed that she would whisper in your ear,
Henry, that Molly is our daughter. I will live, and you my
darling Henry will redeem.
Angela you and Aaron will love not just for the sex I gave
back to cure my own malaise. You will bear a new child named
Sarah. I am sorry Darling Henry, Aaron not you are the father
of the child. Not even Angela knows that.
You my artist, my true great man, Aaron, will recreate the
lines of my habit mark me on canvas in turns of paint that
will form as whole spirits and make the walls fly.
1980 - 1992
At seventeen, Laurie was almost six foot, slender, but full.
Cradling her, long auburn hair curled over our shoulders as a
dark, bloody wave. Her subtle face had ordinary lines. At
twenty-seven she was a phantom of beauty that was deeper than
her skin.
At fifteen and twenty-four Laurie had posed for Aaron and
Angela showing them her inner parts, opening her cunt, and
allowing them to breathe its fragrance while they depicted her
as "female" Christ on earth.
Color and mood (like the texture of polyphony) made her a
cameo as ancient innocent ivory. Juxtaposed, standing like a
nude Madonna in indelicate mobile homes that gathered on the
periphery of her own worship. They stood to honor her throwing
kisses, masturbating, and fucking the same holes over and
over. Devotion has many names. Standing in banal poverty,
flaunting the hunger and disease, arranged by some demented
dictator from central casting, Laurie in this dream decided to
draw down the drapes, cutting off the light, and death
followed in an insane storm that killed all but a few who were
resisting the faith. Taking it as a rebuke, the followers of
Christ Tina drifted away, and Tina herself, stealing the
spirit of the child Laurie, made the heat and dark of hell on
earth part of her own.
Moving to Ridgefield NJ, Helena Herrig swam with Tina and with
her daughter past the Raritan rip tides and swarming as great
horse flies they both descended and were born out of the air.
No miracle. No one understood. It happened faster than time.
Acceptance is reality.
The house became a full part of the wall. It became part of
the grass, the rocks, and the mountain behind it was the Rock
of Saints.
Dreams are subtle gray rivers without edges. They fold into
the mountains. Water transgresses, and the sin is the desert.
No, sin is the absence of desert. We are all void, she said.
Preaching from the Mount, she rambled in no apparent logical
order. Traveling from the east to the south, she denied the
sun. Resting she counted seven numbers and made them all null.
She said, fuck the meek, the weak, and let them become
cinders. Laurie laughed at the dream of Tina. Politically, we
cannot ignore the politically acceptable. We must champion
that dream as if it were actual.
Laurie and Helena loved beauty but lived with ordinary
everyday artifacts that tumbled from the shopping cars of K
mart.
I gave you my taste in beautiful things, mother screamed at
daughter. Mother was drunk. Daughter was stoned. Daughter, 12,
knew the bed marks of fucking and the daily routine of
watching sex unroll with the cash.
I love dirty pillows, Helena said. I love lace Laurie sang.
You are all fucken idiots Christ Tina shouted. Forget the
trinkets and fuck for power. Like yours, Laurie answered the
spirit in her dream. I am trapped and you talk philosophy, you
bigot and spiritual waste. I will be murdered and you play
head games changing forms and perceptions with subtle design
plots. Twisted mystery. No one solves anything. New questions.
New playmates. Nothing original is grown at that store, Laurie
said, ignoring the spirit and handling the mirrors to reflect
variable dreams with variable focus. My mother is a perfect
example. At times Helena resembled a cross-dressing biker, and
other times Jean Harlow.
No, Helena was not the spitting image of some darling biker
married to Antonio Rocca and the WWF. No 49 Ford, headliner
ripped would plow up the back forty car lots of a Florida
trailer court.
Laurie remembered that scene. "Momma and Billy sold my ass for
porno loops. They got drugs and cigs, and I got poked."
Helena loved the raunchy and the delectable trivia of TV soaps
and misery television.
Dirty pillows and soil sheets were the props for the porno
movie Helena made of her daughter blowing a drunken neighbor.
Laurie was 19. Helena shot the super-eight. Pick the worst
porno you have ever seen, Laurie told Henry in a dream.
Imagine two hours of fucking and sucking without moving except
the usual scratching of ass and tissue blotted to semen blots
running down under eyes.
Interrupting this fantasy, Helena spoke softly over the
telephone to Henry, Angela and Aaron. "I had an elegant
profile with wide hips and ass. Speaking as if she were
invisible, Helena lied pretending to talk to no one while
Laurie's friend's listened mute.
The anonymous stranger, actually Christ Tina, holding hands
with a now invisible Laurie (not a ghost Tina insisted)
imagined she did not know them, and that they did not know
her, and she spat the story with a gentle flick of her
cigarette. Irony. The actually believed that Helena was more
beautiful than Laurie. So what, Laurie would laugh. "I claim
it too," Laurie, answered Tina back in her dream smacking the
spirit on her wide ass."
In fact, Laurie claimed that her mother was the most beautiful
woman who has ever lived. Helena readily agreed.
Hyperbole, of course, but saying made it happen, Christ Tina
witnessed and the ghosts lined up with Laurie at the head of
the line for a new round of phone sex.
Laurie dreamed it from Christ Tina. You were not limited b11y
your companion's stature or diminished capacity. The greater
one's kink, the more you felt. Symbiosis," turning to Henry
and Angela Laurie gathered them in the dream of her arms with
her mother, Helena, while Aaron watched incredulously.
"Will you let me get you off on the phone, Laurie asked
Henry"?
Aaron said yes and Angela said no. Henry said, "only if I can
listen."
"Why waste it," Angela laughed. "We can do it ourselves with
our two phone lines. Imagine being so close and only hearing
it, and Aaron could come into the room and I could watch while
he does her as she talks to the stranger."
"We can fuck as missionaries if you want or not, "aussi,"
Henry laughed.
With little notice, Laurie disappeared into the walls only to
dance out of Henry's mouth into Aaron's lips.
"Here's my death name, Laurie told them all. Call me Saint
Faith, Elinore Dare, Christ Tina. We are I and we consumed
with regeneration."
Henry, Aaron, and Angela listened to the dream as one page in
one performance. "No magician came to call," Henry spoke
first. Laurie is there."
"Bless us," Laurie said, quickly please I will disappear, and
then just as she passed back to from where she came, Henry
kissed her and kissing the spot where she stood kissed Aaron.
Angela laughed, and said, "I will leave you guys alone
tonight."
"Get the fuck out of here," Henry drew back pretending horror.
"I love to watch you," Laurie said, "softly as I speak,
brushing my hair, I play the shy child, covering myself with
the fringe of a child's blue blanket mocked with innocence."
"OK," pulling the blanket away, exposing Henry. "One more
time, OK." Laurie spoke as if she meant it, but when I moved
to become God, Laurie as Tina playfully pushed them over,
sitting on their belly, open legged, leaning down as far as
the pressure of her breasts allowed, sucking his tongue,
embracing the rocking, upward pressure of his ass as a
positive, muscular language that deepened.
If this scene had played in cheap porno, Laurie said, "I'd
suck him for two minutes (while undressing); fuck him for five
(while some one else watched and perhaps joined in); we'd
reverse twice: head to foot, face to ass. The actor (must have
a huge cock), and, of course, he'd pull out before he came,
spraying my face or breasts. And as I am a slut, I'd play with
the leavings, drawing strings with your cum, glan to lips,
making the actor squirm before my final exaggerated swallow
minutes after his orgasm, making the discomfort unacceptable,
so the man runs away, holding his balls. I have my fantasies,
Laurie laughed even as I sleep dying."
Sean Farragher
Poetry Site: http://www.farragher.com
TxM6 Sites:
http://www.taximurders.com
http://www.taximurders.com/enfer
http://www.taximurders.com/lcfallon
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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