Thesis/Messenger

A Story by Abishai100

Unusual dark-tale of Earthling prince whose engagement with a voice from the beyond renders a milky-image of incomplete-bureaucracy phobia (for the Ego!).

An offbeat superstition dark faerie-tale. Something like the 'opposite' of My Stepmother Is an Alien (Kim Basinger). Hope you like it,

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AMLAN: I'm just a regular overground fellow, Katarina.

KATARINA: I assure you, happy-prince, I'm from the other side of consciousness.

AMLAN: I've fathomed your mysterious visage, and I don't doubt your darkness!

KATARINA: That's why you may take respect for my claim of anarchy, prince-man.

AMLAN: This is unnerving me, my Selfie-age of simple sportsmanship-language.

KATARINA: I know of your social blog about your Sox/Boston baseball card!

AMLAN: Why'd you lace my Irish curry-stew with a sedative, Katarina?

KATARINA: You've kept my (dark) secret for your Selfie-life (hahahaha).

AMLAN: Stranger cleats...Selfie-like.

AMLAN: What do you mean you're from the other side of consciousness?
KATARINA: I've been lurking beneath your stars and inside your walls, prince-man.

AMLAN: I've kept you secret, for I don't doubt such a stranger claim, Katarina.

KATARINA: Then guess why I laced your meal, for my own vanity-challenge, prince.

AMLAN: You want me to drift off into some self-soul numbing feel of curses!

KATARINA: Yummy...keep your guesses whispers, lest I find you delicious (hahaha).

AMLAN: Selfie-like (hmmm).

Katarina was an actual messenger from the beyond-walls of consciousness, a real 'alien' who sneaked into Amlan's life and his apartment and made for stranger brain weave of sportsmanship-culture trophy/treasure possession for darker/stranger superstitions of vanities and curse (wow). Katarina wanted Amlan to contemplate the cursed-chance that his meals were sedative-laced because of his writing/happiness with his special Sox (baseball) card trophy (Upper-Deck)...Selfie-like.

Amlan fled to a Homeland-Jersey 'hostel-station' (Inn-Express) and decided to make some (private!) journal-notes about some clarity story or social media post/blog about his Sox-item for his readers/audience, maybe even to protect/shield them from Katarina's bloody message(s). The Inn-Express suddenly felt like Amlan's old campus social-house where he indulged in secret humble human vanities of Earthling behavior-hobbies of the heart/brain (damn).