Spring is in the northern hemisphere air, when the sun is in the sky anyway, as it has been in Blighty a lot of the last week. Love is in the air too, in the latest episode of our X Files parody, which is quite timely, what with Valentine’s Day on the horizon.
Hi, it’s G.G. Howling, fantasy literature correspondent at the greenygrey inspired by Harry Potter wizard writer J.K. Rowling.
X Files Parody Episode
This episode of the XaW Files travel quest to find our Andy Warhol sees greenYgrey, Love the mixed-up Vole and our Jack Kerouac Jack Wolfpac still on the edge of Minsk, Belarus.
It starts with a singular person (werewolf) couple of short poems, and continues with some travel experience prose, before returning to poetry for meditations on the meaning of sleep, then setting up the next travel direction with conversational prose, ending on a light-hearted note with some comedy.
Chapter 3 Episode 6
Love flew into the air
as if it were a were
a journey I had conspired
something it’d desired
to visit a wildlife refuge
I knew it wouldn’t refuse.
Even Jack jumped up
like a namesake Russell pup
I’m ready for the road now man
what’s your spontaneous plan
I’ll scoot on ahead, lead the way
no blistering pace, with a price to pay.
On my first ramble I might have felt guilty about lazing around for five episodes in a Minsk park, but I was now more relaxed about my fantasy travelling, content that I’d already imagined seeing a lot of places.
The time had been quite well spent anyway. Although I hadn’t seen as much of Minsk as I’d wanted, I had been mindful of my thoughts, and had spent some time contemplating sleep. Here’s some words I mined and brought back from my unconscious worlds:
Sleep is only a waste of time
for those untravelled
in the inner spaces of the mind.
Sleep is the closest
you get to death
while still alive.
Is sleep practise for death
like a bird’s first flights
upon leaving the nest,
or an animal born
first stepping out
into a bright
clear sunny morning,
or an astronaut’s
into the darkness
beyond our atmosphere.
Being dead makes life bearable
being asleep makes dreams come true.
‘Why did you choose Pripyatsky and not the bigger Belovezhskaya Pushcha National Park,’ Love asked as we approached the former.
‘Belovezhskaya is bigger and better known,’ I replied, ‘but it doesn’t have any Ys, and Pripyatsky has two like greenYgrey, and in almost the same places too. The only Y difference is that it is the fourth of ten letters in my name, and the fifth of ten in Pripyatsky.’
‘Moreover,’ I added, ‘it has two Ps in prominent places; as prominent places has two Ps in prominent places in fact; as I have two Gs in prominent places; in greenYgrey that is, not the actual words prominent and places, which of course do not contain any Gs, and are anyway not open to my suggestions or editing, both being well established words. Just for the record, Pripyatsky’s Ps are the first and fourth letters, just a little more prominent than my Gs in first and sixth places.’
‘That’s quite amazing,’ Love replied, ‘do you think there could be some relation between the two of you, and that there might even be some other greenYgreys here?’
I thought for a moment or three, before answering in a language Love would understand clearly; a language I call lovingly: ‘I don’t know Love, your guess is as good as mine, as well as your name, and I think there’s more chance of you finding lovely voles than I have of finding Pripyatsky greenYgreys.’
Love seemed to love that.