第7話 Epilogue 2 Mr. Clocktime Goes Out To Eat

It was an old Chinese restaurant, called Taste Of Chicken. More accurately, it should have been called Taste Of Fish. You could go through the isles all day, and only find one dish that involved chicken. The food was to sweet, and yet that was not as overbearing as the taste of the sea. The waitress was cute enough, but soon it was time to leave. ‘I’ve never been to a Chinese place like that.’ said Mr. Clocktime, and with a tip of his hat, flew into the sky.


And then landed on the porch steps of Vella’s–or rather–Nadine’s apartment in the potato district. It had been many months sense Nadine had inadvertently created a new universe out of the dust of the dream-cataclysm. She stared at him through the window with a glare, and then pushed aside her long flowing red hair. Then walked to the door, with a pepper spray canon held behind her back. But because Mr. Clocktime was all knowing, he would make sure to be especially nice today. For he had grave news to tell indeed. Indeed! Vella had lost her noble steed, her motor bike in the city-scape she called her Stallion. He grinned as he had a sweet taste of scallions. Nadine opened the door.


Mr. Clocktime, is that you?’ said Nadine.


Mr. Clocktime wanted to barf out his spleen. ‘You are looking particularly unclean today.’ said he to Nadine.


‘Why are you here?’ said Nadine.


‘I was on an incredible adventure, exploring lost civilizations, ruins among various times and places.’ Mr. Clocktime said, creating the illusion for and of himself that of many faces from different eras. For he could change shape at will, although for this Nadine treated him like a shill.


‘Why are you really here?’ said Nadine.


‘Vella is in the hospital, I took a visit to check on our daughter.’ Nadine had to barf from him calling her that, for he had never been attentive until recently. Although in retrospect this was by design. For someone who was divine, could not take care of mortals or half and half. That would for him, be like taking care of calf for the slaughter. But Vella was certainly his daughter. He cackled with a hyena’s laughter.


‘Mr. Clocktime!’ said Nadine.


‘It is who I am my dear.’ he said, with a cane flourish. And then flew back into the sky, not to come until the next night.


Nadine rode her motor bike to the hospital, and her clogs almost slipped on the slippery pavement of the metropolis. This made her feel the need to piss, thus she as a ms. rushed inside to take a whiz. Then rushed into the room, knocking over various janitors cans, and then in her mind as she went to visit Vella: yes I can, yes I can, yes I can. And thus with shuffling shirt, she entered the room under the glow of the fading city lights.


‘Vella, you didn’t tell me.’ said Nadine.


‘Well I was unconscious in the hospital.’ said Vella.


‘No no, about Mr. Clocktime.’


‘Priorities, priorities.’


Vella relationship with Nadine had gradually began to dissolve. Nadine never really intended this to happen. Certainly Nadine never wished to be like her mother, who was a smarmy politician that had reached a kind of pseudo NSA status in the potato district. ‘I care about you Vella.’ Nadine said.


‘Then act like it.’ said Vella.

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