House: Through the Years {Change}

A Story by Abishai100

Portrait of inventions in risk-wager, love, difficult destiny, and educational 'consciousness' through the years (in New England).

A paranoia Earth tale. Thanks for reading,

DISCLAIMER: This work of creative fiction offers no ties to any representative person(s)/body and all images/references used herein comprise a purely 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' views/translations).

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Mr. Amlan Satan was happy pursuing his Master's degree in linguistics and thinking fondly serving as his alma-mater social house faculty advisor when he learned of his new cohort, a lady-linguist (Shelbye O'Hara) who seemed to have her own stranger/mysterious 'links' to nonacademic circles, which some gossiped were tied to some Catholic-Protestant pluralism 'troubles' of the Western storytell variety (Facebook-like).

AMLAN: What if you're a psycho for my advisement-work with the social house.

SHELBYE: What's that motto of your alma-mater house, "The Gate hangs high..."

AMLAN: Yeah, and I don't mind having a female consort for this sort of work, class.

SHELBYE: What if I'm psycho?

AMLAN: We're both young, attracted to each other, and hence curious about spying.

SHELBYE: You're just an old-hand linguist advisor for campus area words of class?

AMLAN: Well, I feel more normal than you...I wonder about your view of the IRA.

SHELBYE: I seek to retire in comforts/jewelry like any other school-lady, love.

AMLAN: Facebook-like (for the gods?).

PROFESSOR: You doubt her 'link' to overground academic work now, paranoia-pal?

AMLAN: I get this eerie feeling there's more to O'Hara than just Southern Comfort.

PROFESSOR: You drink with her, bed with her, work with her, consult with her too!

AMLAN: I dunno, but I feel somehow safer with you, doc (ha).

PROFESSOR: Once you get your Master's and then move onto giant-IQ, all's well.

AMLAN: What if she's a psychopath, doc?

PROFESSOR: You won't find out the hard-way if she's as cunning as you fear then.

AMLAN: Selfie-like (for the gods).

When Mr. Amlan Satan gifted Shelbye a darling-covered classic edition of that iconic folkloric story about flying lost-boys challenging an evil pirate-captain by the name of Hook alongside a darling Earth realm princess-girl who made adventurism her own (Wendy's), she seemed reticent and pensive about street-mythos ties to Northern Ireland or the like, but why? Amlan thought there was something dark about Shelbye O'Hara, but he loved her too, so he was lost, like one of those phrases in the storybook he gifted (wow).

PROFESSOR: She's dead, Satan.

AMLAN: Satan is my Slovak-Algerian (immigrant) surname, but I'm all sad now.

PROFESSOR: Shelbye was tied to the IRA, sorry.

AMLAN: I should've used love's language to draw her away from a dark-life, doc.

PROFESSOR: You need psychiatry...eases the trek to the cemetery, Satan (ok).

AMLAN: Thanx (Facebook-like).

JOURNAL_EXCERPTS: "The games of Othello between man and woman, both schoolteachers of educational environment advisory work for social house languages (the Gate) may draw gender-psyche note/images for the bonds of Earthling negotiation...as the game itself drew space-borders/saving/controls iconography for the competitors, the man and woman wondered about the lengths of cross-gender knowledge for the Ego."

PROFESSOR: You're older-and-wiser, Satan.

AMLAN: I can feel it!

PROFESSOR: Did you think of a mail-order-bride (from 'riddled' Ukraine) now?

AMLAN: Maybe (thanx).

PROFESSOR: Facebook-like (for the gods).

Mr. Amlan Satan, now older and wiser too, made himself a zesty Saturday's Eve diner-plate of zesty soft cheesy (Mexican) bred-and-mead snack treats for comfort food and remembered Shelbye...who was either psycho or ill-fated to become what he wanted her to become...a wealthy/lucky American wife of a 'fantastic' educational environment prince of languages (for leviathan/uncertainty). Maybe she was a ghost (Facebook-like).