Date:         Wed, 8 Oct 1997 00:46:07 -0400
From: Judy Ray <ray@CONTINET.COM>
Subject:      INT: Writers Party: Evening

        A flash of light from the distant transporter briefly
brightens the night sky.  The sound of singing is heard, a lilting
alto voice singing "Ahhhhlowhahhh oeeee, Ahhhhlowhahhh oeee"
repeating the two words like a mantra.  Heads turn towards the
sound.  "Who's that?"  "Why is she singing?"  "Why is she
so off key?"  It's that last question, hanging in the air,
that silences the rest.  "Off key?", they hear, in that same
alto voice, but now raised in a tone of questioning disdain.
        "I, the metaphorical Judy, am *never* off key; you just
ain't intrepreting me write!" she asserts.
        And then they see her, all 5'6" of her, 52 skiddo, kiddo,
volumes of energy packed into an aging overweight body that
won't stop.  Redhair glowing in the moonlight, a silky pareo
in tones of aqua, cerulean blue, hot pink, purple, the lavender
of lilacs, the red of the reddest hibiscus flower, swirl
together, sprinkled with bits of silver stars, hot yellow
suns, and creamy bits of moon.
        "I am poet, Hear me Roar,
        Hear me sing of snow and hoar,
        Frosty lyrics, icy thoughts, warm feet.
        I can march you into war,
        Give you visions from outdoors,
        Cozy firesides with angels galore.
        I come in peace and rhyme and meter,
        Sing of Thor, Serene, Demeter,
        Ariadne, and a whole bunch more...."

        "Uhh, I think Judy's lost it," Tom whispers.  "Look,
in her right hand, what *is* that anyway?"
        She stands there in the sand, swaying slightly, quiet
now, gazing up at the night sky.  In her right hand is a small
device, a red die on top of which is screwed a small
metal cylinder.  A small brass tube protrudes from one side of the
die, and as she raises it to her face, she puts the end of
the tube in her mouth.  "Sure glad I had this around," she
says, as she pulls a pink bic from the folds of her pareo.
MaryAnne cozies up close, then Colin, then Thomas and
Tom.  They form a circle around her, a circle of backs towards the crowd,
and nothing is heard from them for a while. Quite a
long while, as a matter of fact.
        Finally, they turn around.  "Munchies!" Judy yells,
stumbling towards the food......

At 07:52 PM 10/7/97 -0500, you wrote:
>As the sun slowly slips below the sea, leaving a surprising amount of
>twilight for a long time, the guests begin to gather in the central garden
>among the bungalows.  Some of them study bobbing lights in the water,
>moving closer.  Others smile, watching palms in silhouette appear with the
>luminous, soft-colored sunset sky in the background.  It looks like a
>postcard.
>
>"Welcome all!"  Phanny says with a smile.  "Life here is not as you know
>it at home.  But it is wonderful, phull of surprises, and any dream can
>come true.  Tonight we have a pheast prepared by the natives.  They have
>cooked all day, underground, a whole pig, breadfruit, vegetables, and many
>other surprising and scrumptious delights.  The bar is open for anything
>you wish.  There <pointing>.... on the big veranda overlooking the water,
>are tables for all, or you may sit out here, native style, on mats.
>Please feel at home!"
>
>Omar rushes over to give Phanny a big hug, lifting her high off the ground
>in a crushing bear hug that leaves her breathless.
>
>The mysterious voyagers move in closer, dreamily, smiling.  "There will be
>entertainment after the meal!"  Phanny announces.
>
>There is a trail in the sand where Maryanne has dragged her valise to her
>bungalow.  The monkey draws in the smooth path with its phinger.
>
>Phanny turns to see Daisy Mae behind her, and they embrace, chattering
>away about what's been going on since they last met.  "Why, this is the
>most beeoootiful place I's ever bin!" exclaims Daisy Mae.  "Ah don't gotta
>sleep with one a them critters, do Ah, Phanners?"
>
>"No, you sure don't.  But that's Vinnie and he keeps the geckos at bay at
>night.  They are cute little lizards with round toes, and they wouldn't
>hurt a phly..... whale..... I really can't say that -- they *eat* phlies.
>But they are scared of people, Daisy.  They can get in your room, though,
>and might scare you if you walk in on them or wake up to one on the wall."
>
>"Eeeeekk!  You mean Ah gotta sleep with lizards in mah room?!  Can't Ah
>sleep a the main house, Phanny?"
>
>"We don't have a main house here like we do at the Resort, Daisy.  Just a
>big ol haunted house halfway up the mountain there.... you can't see it
>now.  Not enough light."
>