Why do you wear that crazy hat?

People stare at me because I'm different.

How are you different?

And what does that have to do with the hat?

I'm the blacksheep on this bus.

You see i have an illness and some people stare at me.

So I figure by wearing this hat it seems it's legit for people to stare at me.

Here try it on for a few minutes.

What do you notice?

People are staring at me.

Yes,but if you take it off,the stares will go away.

If I take it off,it will seem more people are staring at me.

That's why I wear that hat.

12 heads on a clock,as a metal blade moving counter clockwise beheads in sixty seconds.

The numbered heads fall one by one to the floor.

Time stands still on the wooden floor.

I pick up the pieces of the unrecognizable faces of the floor.

I pause for a minute.

I walk to my fireplace and I throw them into the fire.

Marching desperately into late march.

April showers approaching?!

The future seems bleak.

June will soon be approaching.

Hopefully we'll get there in time,not dead on arrival like the others.

I look back at the complete darkness,as I head towards the light.

Vitamin D is our dying plea and destination.

Suddenly I feel a hint of warmth,I look back,the blackness is subsiding.

No!They won't do that to us again.

They promise,and taunt!

And leave us in the dark!

I heard of one time they complained of heat,and they were obliterated with rain.

I have to grin and bear it!

No complaining they said.

Who are they?

They call themselves the overlord.

All I know is that if we're quiet they're quiet.

They sleep quarterly,and awake early June.

If they hear us they'll signal to the subliminal powers above.

We slowly and quietly creep into late may.

The heat is starting to rise.

Were getting close!

Trees in the near distance,fruit and herbs.

All of a sudden as we reach out for nourishment.

All the plants and trees are sucked in and through the ground.

The sky goes dark.

It must be June!

Then there's a loud voice from the sky.

We are the overlord.

You are trespassing on restricted grounds!

You must turn back!

Or else!

We will not go back.

Please,please.Vitamin.

Suddenly the heat becomes unbearable.

We drop to our knees begging for rain.

Not caring for the early consequences of the past.

Bullets of rain.

Bodies dropping to the ground.

Then complete silence.

That day June 6th,1,944 despairing souls were vanquished with an onslaught of vitamin d.

A lighter seems innocent.A tool to ignite our desire.

A campfire.Surrounded by warmth and friends.

When candles are lit up on a cake.

Doesn‘t the cake look so much pleasing to the eye?

A fireplace burning into the wee hours of the morning,smouldering our hearts as we drift away.

A candle lighting the room,as it ignites our hearts and quiets our minds.

A cigarette in the lips,awaiting the tug and the draw of the spark.

I know some smokers when they can’t find their lighter,they go into a frenzy.

Yet having a cigarette without a lighter is more frustrating than not having a cigarette.

A toaster,a stove burner.An option that just doesn’t quite fuel the void.

I wonder if some of the most addictive drugs require a lighter?

Is there a connection when that flame arises?

Is that the spark that

kickstarts the high?

Are we blinded by the light?

Is that the true reality of the open flame.Does it close our minds for a brief flicker of a moment?

Mrs Money Penny,I have some bad news for you.

What is it Doctor Fleming?

I have to amputate your finger.

Dr.No!

It‘s the only gold finger I have!

I’m sorry Mrs.Money Penny,i have no other choice.

If you want that ring removed there’s no other way.

My hands are tied.

Yeah I can see that!

Oh I’m preparing for my next role.

You mean to tell me another Bond movie is coming out?

Yeah.

When do you guys quit?!

Take for example John Wick.Dr.

I know how they can end the next movie,so they’re won’t be a five or a six,and so on.

How Mrs Money Penny?

All they have to do is take the writers the director the producers the whole cast and put them in the movie,give them roles,and one by one,kill them off.

How did you get a gold finger?

I was dating the man with the golden gun.

We were in the Alps.

He showed me his gun with a ring on the tip.

He got down on his knees and asked me to put out my hand.

Then he said this is for your eyes only.

Then he took his gun and placed it the tip of my finger,and he whispered to me diamonds are forever.

Then he winked with his goldeneye.

Then he continued saying,I meant the world to him,and without me the world is not enough.

Thats when he proposed.

I told him never in a million years

He said,by the way,you’re horrible in bed,and that night we were together,I faked my climax.

At that moment i felt like a spectre!

Then in quantum of solace he pulled the trigger!

He was the spy who loved me.

Then there was an explosion,

It scared the living daylights out of me!

He was gone out of the picture.

And I was like a thunder ball of snow rolling down the mountain!

It felt like the end of the world,like the sky fall ing over me!

I kept telling myself,it’s no time to die right now!and that I’d die another day!

At the time,all I could think of of was revenge.

Then I thought,that doesn’t give me a license to kill.

I remembered I had a moon raker in my back pack,that Vlad gave me inscipted from Russia with love.

So I started to navigate my way down the mountain.

I was moving so fast it felt like I had eight arms like an octopus sy!

I was digging and grabbing the ground to lessen my fall!

I thought my odds of making it like a determined card player at a casino royale who wasn’t ready to cash in their chips!

I was determined to live and let live today,and that tomorrow never dies!

Mrs.Money Penny,did you learn anything from this experience?

Yes Dr.I will never say never again!!

It can tie you up and twist your words.

A noose threaded with lies and deceit.

The hang man stands in the shadow,caped in obscurity.

Around your neck its sinewy hands can lift you up to unfathomable heights.

It promises you the world,with the promises of archaic words.

The malevolent maestro bends the crooked wand,whipping the truth seekers into a chaotic choir of muted hymns.

Their voices rise,lifting the dead bones out of the sepulchre of a stillborn prevericated heart.

Gem stones in the palm of my hand,leaves me wanting more.

More of the jagged edges,to shape and contort.

Contort and contain the broken pieces that fall into shape.

Shape-shifting into diadems that sparkle on crimson crests.

Crests weaving into floral designs that mount on wings.

Wings that soar through dark clouds into opulent sunlight.

Abiding my time with a broken watch.

A souvenir from the scene of the crime.

The evidence in plain view in real time.

Tick tock, the clock on the wall,hands moving in stolen time.

A moment of passion,nine.twenty seven forever fixated on my wrist and mind.

Months,years,a calendar with fading months,x's and o's devouring the days in blue print.Ticks and tacks.Riddened blanket and a calendar nailed into my wall,suspended in time.

My destination awaits.The verdict?

Only the truth will tell.

A downpour of somber joy is flooding the room.Things from the depths of my mind are surfacing.I'm sinking deeply in words that I toss to the wind,Carried away by tempest thoughts that storm through my memory.

As i stare at your picture on the wall.Your face i so dearly recognize,happy and content.Your frame is in perfect disarray.

Like the way i held you,when i held your frail body when you took your last breath.

Now the hurricane has subsided.The long dark nights have cast a shadow beneath the ground you once walked upon.

I moved on.Rainbows are jumping through my camera lense.Clouds are skipping across the canvas window.

No more torrential downpours running down my cheeks.

When I reflect on the years that we captured in the eye of the storm.Theres a stillness,not a breath between us,only the vastness of memories.