These days, my bed companion is Honey, my golden retriever. She and I slept in the next day.
Then, when we woke up, Honey decided that she wanted a bath, so I had to go in and fix the leaky bathtub so that she could get in it.
After her bath, a gentle coat brushing was in order.
I’ve been wanting to do a screenplay for some time, so since I was off work and had some free time, I decided to get started. Kristy had shown me the basics of writing for the screen, which is different from any other kind of writing. It isn’t just about the words, but also about the camera angles and how they go along with the words. Very much a challenge.
I also need to compose a letter to Kyra. But I haven’t the foggiest idea what to even say to her. Words fail me. I suppose I could call my sister, for she’s never short of words, but I can’t burden her with my problem. I made this mess, I’ve got to dig myself out of it. I figured out that if Imsety is in town, then my sister is as well.
So, right now, in the notes I have, Parker Stephens is the biggest movie star in the land, and he’s juggling three women in his life – his ailing mother, his childhood sweetheart, and the gorgeous co-star of his latest film. His co-star says she is pregnant.
So, Honey and I took the little jog to my sister Savannah’s rented vacation house.
Savannah led me through the living room and showed me around. Her hired butler, Aubrey Troutman, went into the kitchen to prepare a meal.
Savannah tells me that she’s in town at the special request of the Queen herself, to rid the mansion of the ghosts which had infiltrated it before her son’s wedding in a few days. “This is the new Banshee Blaster,” Savannah said, showing me a futuristic looking tool, “the Queen herself paid for it.”
“Really?” I said.
“I’m being paid rather handsomely for this gig,” she tells me, “not that we actually need the money, of course.”
She then goes on to tell me that she’s looking into enrolling Sage at Le Fromage Art School. She pulled out a recent picture of her first-born daughter.
“Goodness she’s lovely!” I squealed. “I bet I could get my agent on the phone right now and get her a job in Bridgeport.”
Savannah laughed. “I’m not sure she’s even interested in show business. Andy and I, we haven’t pushed our kids in any direction. Whatever they’re interested in is fine with us, as long as it’s not crime. We certainly weren’t pushed, were we, Bassy?”
I nodded my head in agreement. I mean, how different could we have turned out? She’s the foremost paranormal expert in Sim Nation and a noted archaeologist. And me? I like to think of myself as a moderately successful actor. I think.
She was telling me that she was also promoting her new book, Alys in Wonderland, which is due out this month. She encountered the ghost of a long-dead queen back in Sunset Valley.
“What’s going on with you?” she finally asked after talking a mile a minute. “Sebastian—”
Silence.
“Bassy, there’s something you’re not telling me. You may be the biggest movie star in the world, but you are still and always will be my little brother.”
No comments:
Post a Comment