That deadly nutmeg tree


As I thought quietly to myself about the day, I wondered what would become of it.
Looking over to the shelf, I picked up a binder of jottings. Not interested in reading
the whole thing, I opened it and began to read several paragraphs from the first page.

For authenticity's sake, any part of a story read must be documented in full. If you do not wish
to read it as you feel it may deter you from the actual story, then you may skip over it. Don't worry,
I won't give you a failing grade! I would like to say however, that if someone attempts to document
an entire day without the presence of thoughts fluctuating past the given moment in time, then the
account would be highly inconclusive. It would point to a good storyline, but it would not be an accurate
account of that day. Simply because writers do not want to get that in depth in their subjects. It is
a powerful deterrent. In this case it is necessary. As necessary as are veins to the human body.

It was the fall of 1981, and I was living in Annadale with mom and Ray. My parents had left
for the weekend with the brown & white Shasta trailer that they hooked up to the old Karmann
Ghia and dragged down to Shohola Falls. It was about 5:30 when I picked my friend Dave up
at his house. He wanted to celebrate his most recent job as a New York City Transit Authority
token clerk, but couldn't quite figure out where to go or what to do. I, having ended a torrid love
affair with my former girlfriend Sharon had no intention of consummating another disastrous
relationship for awhile. Sharon who was as promiscuous as she was revealing is now somebody
else's headache, while Dave's girlfriend Luisa broke up with him due to a more personal matter.
He wanted her to have the baby, and she didn't want to be tied down so instead of nurturing it,
she murdered it before telling David he should find someone else. Someone more mature,
I think she meant older. Finally, he found it within himself to move on.



It was only natural.

I drove from his house to my house and throughout the whole car ride he just would not
let up about the failed relationship. When finally we arrived at my house, it appeared that
all was calm. Then he started up again until I became depressed. After a mild lamentation
about Luisa and the baby he would never see. His baby boy or girl, what color would it
eyes have been, and that four letter word which begins with a "C" and ends with a "T"
repeated time and again behind moist eyes. I knew now that we would not be going out
to any club tonight, and so I decided it would be best at this point if we just stayed inside.

What would be the purpose of going out to have a good time, when the person you are with
has erected an invisible wall between himself and the world? It just wouldn't make sense.



Some time elapsed before we hopped in my Grandfather's old car, which is now my
stepfather's new car and drove to the nearest Sav-on. I picked out a warm but friendly
case of America's favorite rice beer and carried the rectangular box under my arm to
the counter where I laid it down. It then occurred to me as I was studying the design,
why this beer is so popular. Because it is red, white and blue, resembles the American
flag and is the most refreshing beer on the entire planet! As I was examining some of
the smaller text, a couple of rapscallions playing tug of war pulled apart a rather large
bag of M&M's scattering them everywhere! Ah, the joys of parenting!!!

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I then displayed my identification to the cashier where I paid for the beer, and we left.
From there we stopped at Vittorino's and ordered a pizza pie. I parked the 1972, black
Galaxy 500 alongside the house, turned off the engine and went inside. The time was
now nearing seven. I put the entire box in the large yellow stand up freezer and waited
a good hour before going down to retrieve it. Dave was saying how much Luisa loved
Budweiser and this would be the first one he's having without her. I then pulled two
cans out and put them on the table. Dave hastily goes to open his and the ring tab
snaps off! Dave starts laughing insidiously and says "that cunt, she put the curse on me."
She didn't put a curse on you Dave, I'll get the can opener. After it happened again
I said, "on second thought, I take that back, she did put the curse on you!"



Halfway through the case I made a ridiculous suggestion. Look man it's only a quarter
after ten, I have an idea. My mom has an unopened tin of nutmeg in the cabinet. I heard
that nutmeg can pack a pretty sweet punch! Dave began to laugh and told me I was
unequivocally out of my fucking mind. Okay I said, and slapped twenty dollars on the
table. If we don't get buzzed you keep the money. Fine he said, let's do it. We boiled
some water and proceeded to pour it in the blender. Tapping the can of nutmeg slowly,
we watched the gritty powder fall into the water while the motor ran. The water soon
turned oily and had an overwhelming industrial solvent smell. Oh God I thought,
what are we doing? This is going to be like drinking Mr. Clean! I stopped the motor
and all the ingredients sank to the bottom of the blender and became one mass.
Seeing that it could not be poured, being that it had a consistency of sand
Dave uttered in a very despondent and baritone voice, "get the spoon."



We waited for the liquid to cool before eating it with great effort. Needless to say,
each spoonful went down like noxious poison and burned the back of our throats.
We gagged and nearly puked throughout the entire endeavor but managed to keep
it down without vomiting. After the ordeal, I reached into the fridge and pulled us
out two beers each. Drink fast I said, you're about to lose this race! Dave was
ahead for the first stretch, but as he began belching uncontrollably I soared ahead
to the finish line! "Your just-a son-of-a-bitch," he said, with an animated face while
looking blindly toward the floor and shaking his head adamantly! We continued
to drink the rest of our beers though our tongues and throats were numb
and our stomachs queasy.

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From out of nowhere Dave begins laughing! "I can't get over those two kids! Did you
see the size of that bag?" I know, they were all over the damn place and one even went
down the back of my shirt! What a raucous those little bastard's made! "And how!"
It was around twelve thirty when Dave phoned for a cab. He said he had a lot of things
to do tomorrow and left. I apologized for the grand fiasco and assumed the nutmeg had
been counteracted by the beer and that's why the night had fallen into ruin. He told me
to replace the can with a new one and said he was not going to take the money. The cab
finally arrived at a quarter after one and Dave was gone. I had another beer alone in the
quiet kitchen where I tried to figure out what went so terribly wrong.

Saturday morning upon waking is how this story begins

My eyes sprung open like an automated device on spring levers while I lay there
motionless, neck moving like an insect. This new head of mine felt more like a
balloon filled with air than my old head, and my face appeared to be distorted like
a surreal mask had been put on while I was sleeping. One that was not my own.



It seemed as though when I looked forward I was, in fact, utilizing more peripheral
vision than I should have been. Almost like my regular eyesight was now somewhat
obscured and when I observed myself in the mirror, I couldn't see the details of
my face but instead something more disturbing.



My eyes flicked open and closed at a sharper rate due to the increase in shutter speed and
each of them was now filled with an indiscernible amount of sticky liquid. Microscopic to
a viewer behind the mirror in my room, but logical in theory, I attest! They were not irritated
and they did not hurt. They were simply uncomfortable and I would have kept them closed for
the remainder of the day had that been possible. Not to mention they were 4x their normal size!

(((It waits for you to wake up!!!)))

The hairs on my head did not feel right to me at all. They were too stiff and bristly like that
of a boar or warthog and my bug face was now very similar to that of a fly, while my heart
was going so fast I could no longer hear it. I was immensely concerned about what was
going on but felt absolutely powerless to do anything to stop it. Like throwing yourself
from a tall building and then realizing you made a mistake. Why the hell did I do this for
I thought as I panicked? There was a flash of light that appeared for a brief moment near
my sternum and seemed to open me up at the middle of my chest, separating my being.
There was nothing gross about it. Nothing red or disturbing from that aspect in the least.

                                                                              Pg 24
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It was just so shocking to witness that it brought an intense level of distress to my system,
and I did not know what was going to happen next. In a matter of minutes the full effect
of this drug would be realized. Without leading you astray I can honestly say that in these
moments of pure terror it felt as though a bomb had been surgically planted within my heart,
set to detonate at an undisclosed time. I could now hardly breathe and my face, hands and
arms were completely numb. As I anticipated my own death, I could only imagine the Lord
God turning the flame up a little higher. "You did this to yourself, now you will never
see my kingdom!"

The tragedy of my situation was coming into focus!!!

I was dying and not a human soul could save me. I tried to walk but my legs collapsed under
their own weight. The more I tried to move about the worse everything became until it felt like
the entire town was resting upon my chest, and it seemed like I was carrying the fortitude of
the entire world with me as I ran full steam toward the stairs! At this point, my heart was
going faster than Keith Moon could play.



The fact that I knew what nutmeg was meant that I deserved what I was getting.
David, on the other hand, was completely innocent in the matter. It was I who pulled
him into this, and I would answer for that dearly. David who has an occasional drink
every once in a while to stimulate his mood. David who won't even smoke pot
because it's illegal. Oh David, I do not think you will be ready for this.



Aside from being labeled a spice, nutmeg is in fact a very effective, fairly toxic,
amphetamine-like psychedelic. What I didn't know at the time was that when
taken in large quantities it can cause extreme psychosis, terrible nausea followed
by palpitations leading to convulsions, severe liver damage and finally cardiac
arrest. Had I known all the facts, I never would have taken it. Even so, how
was I to know the high was going to last more than forty eight hours?

I was standing in the eye of the storm;
a teaspoon more and I would have died for sure.

Dear Lord, if you are out there I beg of thee don't let go of me now!



Suddenly, I was surrounded by screaming sirens as I bounded for the staircase in a vain
attempt to reach the telephone below. Four steps were all I could muster as I desperately
clutched the railing for dear life. These dark grey cartoon teapots were tooting quite loudly
as they taunted me inside my mind where the sound of sirens abounded. I was flabbergasted
to the point of diving out the nearest window but did not wish to succumb to injuries withstanding.

The ungodly seraphims ranted in tones above reason
to paralyze my damaged mind, until I was but a portrait of the insane.

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He's trying to summon an ambulance. . .
An ambulance?
Yes an ambulance!!!
We must stop him from calling this ambulance!
I will have his head!!!

These aerial creatures were acerbated to the point of boiling
as they bellowed aloud from the top of their infinite lungs
before abducting me into their sick and twisted musical.

He's running, he's running, he's getting away!
He's going too slow... He'll never escape!
Can't you all see that this boy is in fear?
Freeze in your tracks and get back over here!!!



I was in a state of complete and utter terror as I struggled back up the steps and into my
bedroom where I crouched down on the rug. On both knees, I began to pray and could
almost sense God wanting to smite me! Who can say for sure that the next life isn't going
to be filled with these monsters, so I had to give myself at least a fighting chance to save
my soul. It soon felt like there was a rope slung over the banister and three men were
pulling it with all their might. I felt like I was slowly being hung and there was absolutely
nothing I could do about it. I wasn't quite sure if I was even breathing anymore. If I was
human anymore. In fact, I knew only one thing; my heart was no longer beating. I know
it must be hard to fathom but after two solid hours of mind wrenching torture, I was
going to be absolved of my sins.

Before I could say anything, I was reassured by the four dark grey teapots who introduced
themselves to me by name. It wasn't like a person to person introduction. It was more along
the lines of how you would envision a ghost if you ever had the misfortune of running into
one. In reality, I think I was listening to the wailing of my own conscience.

Hello, I'm teapot of the North - (sincere)
I'm teapot of the South! - (angry)
Hello Lad, I'm teapot of the East - (revered, mighty)
And I am teapot of the West, pleased to meet your
acquaintance! *tilting its lid* - (empyreal, inspiring)

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We do not mean to glorify our own standings by this haughty behavior and aggrandizing
at will, but you had to be stopped! He was running for the telephone! Yes he was,
he was running to the. . .

And the confusion began again as the meeting of the teapots ran amok! Each one
trying to speak over the other until it was nothing more than pure unadulterated chaos.



My cardboard shell of a head now felt like it was only half there. The bottom half seemed
to have disintegrated hours ago and those little black bugs that were still falling out of it were
everywhere. I knew they were an illusion, unless however, the chemistry of my body mixed in
with the nutmeg created them. After a week of living like this I'm sure I'd be completely mad,
to a point of raving. I felt the back of my head, and it felt like a light bulb. Okay I'm still intact.
Had I felt a rather large incision, then I would not have been able to stop my mind from
destroying me. Very soon, there would no longer be anything falling out of it.



The pure unmitigated despair I felt in my heart must have been my soul burning and so
once again I prayed for God's mercy. I now realized in all my foolishness that there is no
one on the face of the earth who is beyond reproach. Everyone will answer for themselves.

I entered through a door which had opened in my head to see the effigy of Jesus
emerging from the clouds in a burgundy robe He was handing someone a solid gold
chalice 3/4 filled with deep red wine. The chalice appeared to have 4 large diamonds in
the center on all four of its compass points. Then the image faded and I was escorted
back to my cell. My penance it seemed had not yet been fulfilled and so in this place of
torment, I was bade to suffer some more. After about a half an hour the teapots stopped
bickering and one said, "I think he is beginning to understand. The atrocity you have 
committed today has been requiemed by prayer. Now do you see why we stopped you?
Consider yourself saved from the torment of fire for you see the good lord has once
again bequeathed your soul." With that they vanished as quickly as they came.

No longer would there be any ambiguity.
No longer would there be anymore strife, I was free!

The room was so quiet I could hear only the mild sound of my inner ears manufacturing
their own noise. Kind of like the sound you hear the day after a loud concert. I looked at
the clock and found that three hours had passed. My heart had begun beating again and
was off the chart. Knowing that I would be allowed to live was far more than I could
ever ask for and as strange as it may seem, I was now genuinely happy. If I were to
die at this moment, I honestly believe my soul would be in peace.

Reunited in Heaven at last!

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It wasn't long before the telephone rang! Although I now had the heart and body
of a ninety five year old man, I managed to find my way down the stairs and used
all my energy just to answer it. "Hello?" I said to the muffled voice on the other
end of the line and sure enough it was David! He told me he spent the better part
of the morning cowering in bed and praying for salvation for he was stricken
with interminable fear. You don't even believe in God, I said shocked! 



"I do now," he shouted!!! I told him the tale of the four dark grey teapots, and he began to
laugh hysterically! Don't laugh, I said to him through the communicator; this is serious business!
"I'm sorry, don't take it personally or anything." He then continued to laugh wholeheartedly
before telling me his story. "Listen you're not gonna believe this! My mother comes up with a
cup of tea, right? All of a sudden, the phone rings. It's her friend Dottie. Do you know the only
thing she said, on the phone, for the past hour and a fucking half has been Yeah-ahhHaa-hmmm?
Yeah-AhhHaa-hmmm! I swear to God, she never changed it! I'm gonna die if I don't stop laughing!
Yeah-AhhHaa-Hmmm!!!"

Suddenly there was the sound of an impact crash on the other end of the line followed
by a loud boom! David picked up the phone and said, "are you still there?" I asked
him what had just happened, and he said that he tripped on an extension cord and went
headlong into the closet door breaking both doors off their tracks. "You gotta see it,"
he said, guffawing in merriment! I now had to hold myself back from laughing deliriously!
"My head! My head, I can't talk! My head went halfway through the bedroom closet door!!!"
Just then his mother could be heard entering the room. "What's going on in here David?"
She sounded quite concerned as she scurried about the room. My lungs retching for release,
but I refused to give in.

"You're destroying this house," she screamed out in fury like a possessed nun!
"This whole house you're destroying!!!" David then tried to explain the situation
to his mother the best he could, but his mother being a solemn woman refused
to hear any of it! I then pictured that austere face of hers in front of David
and with that, I started to slip. . .

I tripped. . . Because I tripped!
Will you let me talk?
Okay, I broke the door on purpose with my head!
(There was a long pause)
"Why would you do such a thing," asked his mother in shock?
Because I tripped!!!

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Unable to stop the tickling itch that begged for laughter, I exploded! Swinging off my chair,
I dropped the phone to the floor and collapsed. I don't know how long I was laughing for
or how much oxygen I lost to my brain but when I regained my composure some twenty
minutes later, every part of my being ached in the worst possible way. I heard a song that
sounded like a tea commercial playing loudly in my head. Did I just make that song up
or did the fool thing just start playing on its own? Damned if I know.

Dave's mom sure knows how to make tea, boy I'll say!
Go with the best. . . Go with Earl Grey!



Little jingles like this one would attach themselves to my brain, and I would find myself
totally unable to get rid of them for hours at a time. Kind of like when you get a song
stuck in your head, and it won't go away! After that I went up to my room.

I couldn't help notice the curtains as the wind blew gently through them. I saw a man
kissing a woman on a hill near a castle. The wind changed course and the dark knight
came and changed the fate of the two young lovers. There was tragedy, doom, glory
and finally peace as the story concluded. I watched the curtains manufacture dreams
for me and wondered how it was that I never saw them before. If everything was
exactly the same, then what has changed to make me see what before I could not?
I just could not comprehend it. I was spellbound!

Two hours later I spoke to Dave on the phone again. What happened before with your
mother, I asked politely? "She wants to take me to a psychiatrist." Because of the door
incident? "No. Something else happened." Well, can you tell me, I asked curiously?
"My mother was really disgusted with the whole door thing and left the house to go
shopping. As soon as she left, I went downstairs for a glass of milk and a cookie.
I don't even know why I did that! It wasn't like I was hungry or thirsty! I just had
to move around! So anyway, to make a long story short, I fell up the stairs and the
glass of milk broke. I got confused! I wasn't sure what I should do, so I left it there."
You left a broken glass of milk on the stairs? "Yeah, (laughs) and the cookie too!"
With that I let go a roar of laughter that would not be topped to this very day and
collapsed to the floor! I could not catch my breath for minutes at a time and thought
I might actually die from laughing!!! The pain I felt later was similar to a man shot
from a cannon into a steel wall.

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At around 7 pm, I was to meet my friend John at his aunt's house. They were having
an outdoor party in the backyard, and he told his aunt I would come. I left the house
before five, just to be safe but found myself standing at the bottom of my block.
Disoriented and completely unaware of what was happening, I stood there as if
waiting for a bus. Scratching my head with a perplexed face like I had just been
dropped off in México! Only yesterday I knew this area like the back of my hand,
and now my memory was like that of a dying tortoise. I struggled with the reasoning
of the how's and why's, and for the life of me couldn't get it right. I knew I had
to go a certain way, but nothing made sense.



My perception of reality was not altered so much as my instinct of direction was.
I went straight then left and down, but it did not take me to the house at all, only
further from it. I was lost, but I knew all the streets. I felt senile, confused and
old as I stared at what should have been a familiar block.



My brain seemed to be in a place all by itself where everything was fuzzy in its confusion,
and if someone asked me what 6 + 9 is, it probably would have taken me three hours to solve.
That was because the memory sector of my mind had been bordered up like an old abandoned
house, and I couldn't help wondering what would happen if I had to live like this forever. A
burned out drone, staring at vitreous shadows in a deluded haze commonly known as dementia.
If this is what I have to look forward to in later life, then maybe it's better to die young.

 
                                                   
                                                  *After several hours, I was happy I left early!*

Bantam laughter could be heard over the ridge of houses as far as a block away, and I had
pinpointed the location to be that of his aunt's party. I arrived promptly at seven and entered
in through the back gate, where the mighty roar of people filled with alcohol charged the air.
On a small runner of grass the length of the house I traveled until I reached the backyard.
Standing on an array of firmly set paving stones, it did appear to me at first like we were all
on one big crazy chessboard! The sun shone so resplendent upon the handle of the barbecue
grill that it touched off a wild nerve in my eye, and I had to look away. I was overwhelmed with
excitement and couldn't wait to have a drink of something. Anything! Aunt Dana was dervishly
whirling, being spun by a partner whom I had not yet met. John was talking to his cousin Vinnie
and his cousin was going on and on about this new car of his. A Delta Eighty-Eight Royale. "This
new fuckin' Oldsmobile I got Johnny is fantastic! It'll run circles around these other pieces-a-shit
you see on the road. Come around, I'll take ya for a spin in it one day, you'll see." He smoked his
fancy cigarettes and spoke like an Italian gangster while John just listened and nodded his head.

I made my way over the squares carefully to where the alcohol had been stationed and then
suddenly began to feel out of place. Walking over to where my friend was standing, I waved.
"Hey-man!" He said in a glowing tone. "Glad you could make it!" He then shook my hand
before introducing me to his cousin Vinnie. Then, he casually escorted me over to a part of the
backyard where the alcohol was stationed. I swiftly declared Boodles & tonic to be the rouser
and after that very first drink, it was all Bishop to King 9. . . Whatever the hell that meant.



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Later that evening, after a delightful barbecue and some enchanting conversations with my friend's
niece and cousin, John drove me home in his Nova. As I got to the top of the steps, I turned the key.
Upon entering, I realized my heart was now at a much slower speed than it had been earlier. It was
now like Herb Albert playing Whipped cream. So relaxing I could almost fall asleep. It was like
being on two amphetamines instead of twelve!

Eighteen hours after ingestion and not having slept at all, I watched my bedroom curtain's dance
for me again, only this time it was different than it was during the day. This time it was slow and
erotic, mainly because there was no sunlight shining through it, but rather electric light cast upon it.
Besides, the drug was winding down, and it was getting late. I followed the backdrop until it subsided
like black paint thrown onto a magic canvas. The spectacular image then faded away to naught. Every
scene shown to me on that wonderful screen was continually changing in its own way before being
repeated.

Xiphosuran shapes in the buttery sand marked the erosion of a colossal shoreline. Castles made
from seeds of men decay in the morning sun like old grain elevators on long abandoned country
roads wither. I watched a maiden draw a symbol with her finger in the sparkling silica as she knelt
down in reverence to the memory of her kinfolk taken from her in a violent windstorm. They now
lay buried beneath her in the center of what used to be their home, but is now only a skeleton. This
is what time can do as the fair maiden knows all too well. Mountainous ridges carved deep into the
steep wall from the side of an impressive canyon lay furrow. Below, the equestrian's mare rides alone
through a dry deluge in his preeminence. Where vultures pervade the sky, ever looming and cow skulls
blanched by the sun become as common as mirages. . . They are grave markers. Saddened and without
hope she turns away. Granted, she has brought me a bucket of tears but are they really for me or are they
mine? As the pail expands to become an ocean it soon evaporates to become an inlet of salt. Birds swoop
down and take a crystal of this salt home to their nest for one is all they can carry. It is the seed of fertility.
They will give it to their young, so they might have life.



As the scene washes away a sandy universe takes its place. In the end, it was irrevocably the same.
Much like a sea wave when it rolls in, as it retracts and is pulled back into the ocean, the muddy
sand left behind seems to dry up almost instantly. Water has become nonexistent. Delicate shadow's
cascade through rivers of dried seaweed and hollowed out bones to erect a new day. Such hope
lies in waiting, but I find the fair maiden has perished.



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Eventually, I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. There I dreamt, I was living in
the Soviet Union delivering packages of the utmost importance to the Kremlin, but the
Kremlin was simply a dilapidated storefront. Suddenly, it seemed as though somebody
was following me, and so I started to run. I never thought I would escape. Finally, I made
it to the way station where I delivered the package to Мальвина, (Malvina), who was
my mother. "I'll take the package from here Роберт" - (Robert).



I then went back to my hotel overlooking the Basilica and waited.

The telephone rang and I immediately snatched it from its cradle. It is done, I said in a cool
tone and hung up. I then waited for further instructions. There was a fast knock on the door,
and so I opened it. Three men dressed exactly alike in grey casual sweaters and matching
pants stood, anxiously awaiting my command to enter. Come in I said, hesitantly. Do you
realize what you've done, said the first man and ordered me to turn on the television? I did
as I was told, and there was the small package I delivered this morning. "Malvena was
the spy and now all of Russia is looking for you!



They are going to take you to the factory. They will torture you day and night until you give
them names." The factory? "The factory where they lop off the fingers and put fire to your
lower region. The factory where everyone smiles on the outside, but once you are inside, a
smile is nowhere to be found." Ohh, THE FACTORY! My God, I thought they tore it down!



Make it easy on yourself comrade; bedroom, third draw to the right." "You hear that,"
said the first man looking out the large window? "They are in the street now. They are
coming up." With that they left and closed the door. I heard the sound of heavy boots
like thunder coming down the hallway and knew I had to move fast.



I walked into the bedroom and pulled open the third draw to the right. They entered the
room and began smashing everything in sight. There is nowhere to hide, I said calmly
as I put the gun to my temple. Looking down, I saw the hotel room key on a metal tag
by the Matreoshka near the end table. As I picked up the rusted and filthy tag that looked
like it had been lying too long in the back of a toilet tank, the truth had revealed itself
and was plain for all to see. Room #1302. I grinned for I was amused at the sheer
irony of it. I then thought to myself loudly, only in USSR!

As the sound of glass objects breaking and men cursing in demon tongues came
closer, the bedroom door burst open and the hammer instinctively fired.



My eyes opened and my heart was still beating, though very fast. I thanked the
Good Lord for his kindness and for saving my soul from the fires of perdition.
I was relieved to be home, rather than lying face down in a blanket of red along
the banks of the Volga river. I closed the book after reading less than a paragraph.
I was glad I documented the nutmeg ordeal and returned the book of jottings
back to its rightful place on the shelf.

From my bedroom window, I could now see Mother walking down the block
like she was campaigning for a cause. A woman full of vim and vigor in the
morning! She rounded the corner like a cosmonaut, and I thought. . .

This is ground control to Major Tom;
you've really made the grade!

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Reviews for chapter 6

Harriet Mormer - One page of Charles Pendelton is longer than an entire chapter of James Patterson!
Two masters in their own right. One is a master of mystery, the other a master of madness and I really like it!

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PG 22) Genova Bay vision by Jacek Yerka

PG 22) Back side of the moon by Vladimir Kush

PG 23) Oddment 83 by Leah Palmer Preiss

PG 23) Where there's life. . . Orchestra and chorus conducted by Russ David

PG 24) Visions of Nobrow by Matt Dangler

PG 24) Vanity by Robert Connett

PG 25) Damocles by Heidi Taillefer

PG 25) Chained by Nathan Rosario

PG 25) Hierophant by Chris Mars

PG 26) Response Art take 2 by Sante

PG 27) Letting Go by David Ho

PG 28) Samsara by David Ho

PG 28) Goodly Creature by Leah Palmer Preiss

PG 29) Oddment 60 by Leah Palmer Preiss

PG 30) Between sand and stars by Jeff Christensen

PG 30) Untitled Moments - The aftermath

PG 30) Split time by Catherine Lall

PG 30) Chess by Vladimir Kush

PG 31) Birdland by Leigh Palmer Preiss

PG 31) The tenuous light of the dream by Gil Bruvel

PG 32) Lengiz, Books in all Branches of Knowledge by Aleksandr Rodchenko

PG 32) Big Brave Communist Worker Fixes a Poster on a Wall

PG 32) Chimneys and smokestacks built and repaired

PG 32) Long live powerful aviation of the socialist country!

PG 32) Trade unions do not represent the interests of workers