The Adventures of Billy and Bravo

I soon began adjusting the radio dial located somewhere in my right frontal lobe to a more
receptive station. There was some static and a minimal amount of distortion, but not enough
to generate on. Another click on the fine tuning dial proved to be prosperous for suddenly
there was a break in the cloud cover. As pictures began to form from shadows, I found myself
pandering in the unkempt solace of waning distractions. A lusory image of a baby boy patting
a beach ball on an empty and desolate shore could now be seen.



Rapidly, and without warning the ball took to the sky like a helium balloon,
and I followed swiftly behind it!

Like a meteor preparing to burn itself out, I rocketed skyward until something else could
be seen moving ever so slowly across the horizon. I honed in on it as it entered my field
of vision. There I let the invisible air current carry me up to it. An aeroplane glides by with
a hum and onlookers look up! Hat brims shield the eyes from a scorching sun. The pilot
waves to the crowd below and smiles but no one can see his face for he is in a dream.



As I hover above the cockpit, I can now see a three dimensional image of the control panel
and a partial glimpse of our navigator enjoying the view. The pin up girl on the side of the
aircraft has a stunning appearance and is holding in her hand a glass of pale champagne.
Her legs are folded in a very provocative manner thus implying a motive. Without hesitation,
she raises her glass to me and grins before taking a sip of the sparkling intoxicant. Then with
lips pursed and eyes closed, she gives me an adoring kiss before returning to her original position.



As Venus becomes in direct alignment with Mercury, the sun reflected upon the two planets causes
the paint to flake off until there is no image left upon the aircraft at all. At this point, my incendiary
shell is burned up in the troposphere, and I am no longer a shooting star but the air itself.

Pages from a calendar blow off one by one and fall like leaves to the ground.
Suddenly, the wind ceases and the whistle blows! It's Friday, 1953 and the city
is overflowing with joy! The sun is now perfectly in tune with the movement
of the passing plane and as the clock becomes drowsy above the automat it
slows to an abrupt halt. It was at this very moment that the die was cast. . .

                                                                              Pg 15
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The umbrage released from the resilient bird with an iron clad body was one that
provided relief from a blistering heat wave, now in its seventh day. This darkened
the faces in awe as it covered the ground in a geometric and dilatory manner.
An applause rang out in the street where women cried! Men cheered and threw
their hats to heaven. The laudation continued; that was until the sun shifted.



If we run fast enough thought Billy to his fearless dog Bravo, we can bask in its shade,
so off they went! Tiny feet pattered to the rhythm of a drum roll that appeared to be
coming from the attic above my room. There he goes said a black man in his mid
twenties smiling. He had been carefully documenting the quality of the air with x/y
to the 4th power on a medium sized notepad. "I jus' love to see that little dog run!"
He then tipped his yellow hat to the fine looking' critter before turning to watch
smoke rings being blown from a billboard advertisement encouraging youths to
smoke. As they came forth into the air, they linked to form a billowing chain that
stretched far into earth's atmosphere. Somewhere in Beggar's Field China the links
dangle to the ground where they are broken off and eaten by some of the worlds
poorest people. They had a name for it, it was called Mu Gaw. I saw a beautiful
Asian woman as white as a pearl and thought, he who condemns imagination is like
a child forbidden to play, a lover unable to touch, a guide who has just lost his way.

Soon the dog ran out of steam and was panting hard. It was difficult for the tiny Pug
to scoot more than a few blocks without suffering the burden caused by such intense
heat. The small fellow had pushed himself too hard and was now fatigued and exhausted.
He struggled to catch his breath but could not for the little guy had exceeded his limit.
By a school, he stopped and was looking at tall cans filled with coal ashes. As the drops
of wasted energy fell to the sidewalk, they landed on small but thick circles of violet glass
used in the gaslight era to reflect light into the school's basement.

And always remember the darker the colour, the older the glass!



As he gazed into the violet prism, he saw a defeated image of himself in the diminutive
pool of water that sparkled for a moment and then died. As the mirage of heat emanated
up from the streets surface only inches away, Bravo knew he could go no further. It was
there he collapsed and sprawled out on the walkway. Through moist eyes filled with
sadness, he saw his friend succeeding off in the distance. Only three feet away stood
a bone dry jet black fire hydrant, and I wanted nothing more than for that hydrant to
turn on but it simply could not and so the little dog closed his eyes forever.

                                                                              Pg 16
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Billy looked back at his pal with a sad smile before noticing an abandoned building had
crumbled. Because of this building which stood no more, a building that had been reduced
to a pile of bricks in a concaved heap of white plaster rubble stood the adjoining structure
of another dwelling. Through all the debris and mayhem, the facade was unscathed. On the
veneer of its exposed wall revealed one's artistic ability in the form of an iconographic image.
A remnant of a bygone era had suddenly been laid bare. The hundred year old advertisement
painted on the red brick surface seemed to be untouched by the hands of time. In black white
and bright green animated letters read J.D. Voorghont's carriage assembly and repair shop with
a depiction of a young man standing beside his work. Off to the side of the carriage were five
of his workers. Each one holding a different tool. Together they proudly sported their handlebar
moustaches yet no one smiled. Over to the right were the tools of his trade neatly coordinated
on a green and black wall. Tools that would be considered by today's standards prehistoric.



Billy wondered what happened to the timely gentleman standing in the huge painting that
now divided the two worlds? He lived his life out as we all do, and then he closed his eyes.

That world and its citizens are all but a vapor now thought Billy before bolting toward
the calm apparition which could be seen gracefully hovering over a two block radius
far off, in the distance. The smell of asphalt rising on a freshly paved street and coal
tar creosote applied to dry and splintered telephone poles at adjacent bus stops were
all scents of the city that he had come to know and love. Sweat poured from his body
lifting him clean out of his shoes. As the adumbration washed over the bridge he
bounded for it! Never knowing that all along, he's been drawn into make believe by
an artist's loving hand. Never knowing that once the TV is turned off, so is he. As the
ceiling tiles gradually came back into focus one by one, the television set that was on
somewhere in a lonely corner of my mind grew dim and slowly vanished.

How amusing, I thought.
Somewhere in the recesses of our minds. . .
The serene quarters where daydreams thrive.
Only in a place reserved for paragons so dear
could it have acquired such a captivating charm.
As I reflect in absence, an era lost in time.

                                                                              Pg 17
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Inkpop reviews for chapter 4

~DreamChaser~ - W.O.W. thats amazing! i think you should have a more seriouse name, because this is really good! i love how descriptive it is, it's always good to use bigger more discriptive words, it really drawed me in, great job! goin on my watch list!


xoxokelseyxoxo - absolutly amazing =) i loved it. ur images are so
clear and crisp its almost like you are there. =) i really love the ending


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
If any image on this site is considered to be offensive, it will be removed. If it has been copied without
proper consent, please contact me immediately and the image will either be removed, or credit shall be
given unto the person or persons responsible. Whether it be an artist, photographer, cartoonist., etc.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

PG 15) The Human Condition by Ilene Meyer

PG 15) Low cost airlines by Jacek Yerka

PG 15) Fifties pin up by Francisco Rivera

PG 16) Chapeau Mossant poster by Leonetto Cappiello

PG 16) Violet glass prisms courtesy of http://glassian.org/Prism/Vault/index.html#VVL

PG 17) The Selwyn Theater, 42nd Street NYC compliments of Fading ad Campaign at http://www.frankjump.com/