Moonlight and Merlot

The continuing saga of the lives, loves and heartbreaks of the residents of Dion Valley, CA.

As with all the best things in life, this is for adults only.

*****

“Listen,” the voice, the presence, the whatever it was in Phoebe’s head said, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for its whole pitch yet. She had some questions.

“Who are you?” she mentally sent to it, cutting it off before it even had a chance to begin. If there was one thing in life she knew well, it was never let a man – and she was certain the presence was male – get started on something they were all excited about. Men could talk endlessly.

“I Am,” it said.

Phoebe waited for more, but nothing more seemed to be coming. “You are what?”

“I Am,” it said again.

Phoebe shook her head. This was getting nowhere. “Okay,” she told it. “Fine. Be all that you can be. But do you have a name or something? Something I can call you?”

“Do not try my patience human,” it thundered within her and Phoebe gripped her head to keep it from splitting open.

“All right,” she said. “Jezz, don’t get your panties all in a bunch. It’s just a question.”

“What?” Zach asked, and Phoebe jumped at the sound of his voice. She’d forgotten all about him. She looked around and found that the roadster was still on the long and twisted road through the Valley. Apparently they had not gotten to their destination yet and she wondered briefly where he was taking her, but then decided she didn’t care. It probably wouldn’t be all that interesting anyway. Besides, she didn’t have time to worry about Zach and his issues right now, she had much more important things to attend to.

“Nothing, baby,” she said, and rubbed his thigh. “I was just agreeing with you.”

“If we’re going to work together, I need to call you something,” she sent to the voice. And she wanted to work with it. She really, really did. Because she was certain the things it could do and show her were beyond even her own imagination. But she just could not have it coming into her head and thinking it owned her or something. That would never, never do.

There was a long pause and she could feel it assessing the situation. She wondered if it was going to agree or if maybe she was taking it too far that it was just going to explode her or smote her or whatever it was evil presences in people’s heads did to people that annoyed them. And if that was the way it was going to be, so be it. She was no one’s puppet.

“You may call me Aster.”

“Good,” she sent. “Aster. Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?” She felt trying to gear up for its whole pitch again, she could feel its impatience, its almost overwhelming desire to tell her whatever it is it wanted from her, and she wanted to hear it, but she wasn’t quite through with her questions yet. “So, Aster, tell me, where the hell did you come from and how did you get in my head?”

[Until next Tuesday…]

*****

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