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From: "Sean Farragher" <sfarragher@nj.rr.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel  -- Chapter 33   Imaginary Dead   
Date: Thu, 16 Jan 2003 20:10:03 -0500
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TxM6: Taxi Murders the Novel -Chapter 33
Photographs of the Imaginary Dead
(c) 2003 Sean Farragher
sfarragher@nj.rr.com



NEW & UP AT MY SITE
Taxi Murders the Novel Chapters 1-33

http://www.seanfarragher.com/taximurdersbook
http://www.seanfarragher.com
http://www.seanfarragher.com/hyperfiction
http://www.seanfarragher.com/Joss




Chapter 33

Photographs from the Imaginary Dead
Liana Juliana Fasciano
Wednesday, May 8, 1991

Liana smiles at no one. It was as if she is a romantic photograph became
the old fashioned movie. When Liana leaned into Henry's cab window to
request another free ride, she looked and felt like a movie star. Henry
didn't recognize her instantly, and Liana was crushed. Henry smiled at
Liana, after she said nothing,  and began the discussion that became that
one question that defines the boundaries of nature.

"What is reality," the Gadfly asked interjecting into this swirl of voices.

"There is no reality," the Gadfly answered himself. "Everything is fantasy.
That's Liana's true epitaph after all. "

"Write it down, Henry," the Gadfly spoke carefully. "I care," he added.

"How can I drive Liana from drug den to drug den and not shake her by the
shoulders turn her normal death rattle into life. I want to sing the
Messiah, dance with George Chisholm and then shout to him, you're all
fucken dead, Darlings."

"Liana. you have a chance. Rise up announce your creed. Why are you tied
up, bound, left to die beside the dirty road? Settle down on the bare
street, dearest; your bleached white ribs and soft round breasts will be
picked clean, deformed."

Another plan: when someone doesn't respond to your honest attempt to wake
them up, can you force them to care. No, that would tarnish the skin, make
the artwork dingy

Playing Igor Fëdorovich Stravinsky (1882-1971) Fire Bird Suite on his CD,
Henry blasted Liana's voice and music across the Meadowlands

The great spirit, the Manitou awakens, Christ Tina, said. Rising up, Tina
opened books from another law, all topological mats turned down to settle
treble and bass before the surge, as the orgasm waned the hum restored.

I am peace Tina said, removing fingers from lips, kissing eyes,
resurrection.

Beatific.

She is splendid, Saint Faith, my Chrissy, Tina detailed.

As Faith grows wild  she will dance 'cross the moans. All pleasure she
said. Hear what she did when she came reborn. That is true Renaissance.

Be Joyous. Hallelujah. Be glad, She is born again. Praise God. She will die
for your sins. Rise up Ye Nations of the world. Peace is thy name at last.

Saint Faith dear Chrissy on Speech

Will words never end?

Will falsehood silently fall before being spoken?

Why, this pompous refrain?

God is beyond us, and all of what we assumed to keep our faith well its
simple gone.

You understand the entry in the book: god is dead. He said it. Do you
understand. NO.

Then listen, I am the Gadfly. Why do you deny me? I live. Who is this false
God. Speak up. I thought so. Nothing is perfect but the silence. No one has
the balls to challenge me.












for More TxM6  http://www.seanfarragher.com








END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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