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15 June 1800 EDT
"Go ahead, " said Nosmo. "Hit the dang button and let's get on with it."
"I dunno guys." said the shaman. "It's a heck of leap." The shaman was sitting
in front of his screen, finger poised. A group of his friends had gathered to
see this event. The shaman had been struck down suddenly on his way over to Hyde
Park, and when he had awakened, he had received an epiphany.
"The band!" he had murmered. Then realizing the gravity of it all, he'd shouted
to the heavens. "THE BAND!!! YES! YES! JESUS H. TAP-DANCING CHRIST... I HAVE
SEEN THE LIGHT! "
Then he realized that he'd never been in a band, and what's more, the window was
down, and he was stopped at a green light and people in neighboring cars were
looking at him in a quizzical way, and it made him feel very embarrassed. He
pulled around the corner past Debco Electronics and parked, trying to sort out
what the epiphany had meant. Little by little, it dawned on him that it was time
to resurrect the Black Hole Literary Review. He was not sure, but that was the
general gist of it.
John D. had been watching impatiently. "You know, " he said. "I might need to be
getting on here in a little bit. "
"Hold on, Man!" said Nosmo. "Can't you see the man is thinking?"
"I just don't know what to do. " said the shaman. " I'm fairly sure I want to do
it, but I really haven't a clue how to get this done. I mean, there are so many
technical issues, the platform just doesn't fully support everything, but. . ."
Pooh Bear came up behind the shaman and put a paw on his shoulder. "You know, "
he said. "If you really want to make it happen, I'm certain that we can all pull
together. After all, you do have your friends."
Blowtorch snorted, "Hmmmph! Sam Kinneson said friends were the kind of people
who'd let you get drunk enough to piss in your own luggage and then cheer you
on."
"Hmmm. " said Pooh, "That doesn't sound all that nice-- not nice at all."
"See," said the shaman. "That's the problem. That may be all this is really
about. I mean-"
"On the other hand," said Blowtorch, "You came to the show, you bought the
ticket, and if you really want to see the two-headed tap-dancing tattooed lady ,
yur just going to have to step through the curtain. That's all there is to it."
"That probably is," replied the shaman. "Gotta admit: it beats standing out here
around getting sick on corn dogs." With that, he hit the <enter> key."
"Hit <Any> Key to continue." came the reply.
"Where's the <Any> Key?" asked Blowtorch.
"Here , I have one." replied John D. "They don't put them on keyboards anymore.
I always found them most handy. This is the last one I have."
"Thanks." said the shaman. "He put it on his keyboard and pressed it. There was
a momentary discontinuity and. . ."
PRESS {Any} KEY TO CONTINUE
An Index
of What You'll Find in The Black Hole Literary Review
From the depths of the
Hole: I've finally dug down into the vaults and put up a
collection of short stories, articles, and other stuff . Hopefully, you
won't mind the smell of the mothballs.
The
Shaman Papers. From 24HourCampfire.com. I've been writing
there since 2002 as "the shaman." It isn't a pen name as much as it is a
job title. I'm the resident rattle rattler
