Date: Wed, 29 Mar 1995 10:11:37 -0500 (EST)
From: avansant@cosi.stockton.edu (Alicia Van Sant)
Subject: story
Sender: owner-monkees@PrimeNet.Com
To: monkees@PrimeNet.Com
Cc: nez@PrimeNet.Com, nez@videoranch.com, duncan@america.net
Reply-to: monkees@PrimeNet.Com
Precedence: bulk

All right, everybody, here's the story I promised you.  The first part is,
of course, Nez's unfinished story from "...tropical campfire's..."
I couldn't just let a story sit there unfinished, so I thought I'd write my
own ending.  I hope you like it!  I tried to write it in the same style that
Nez started.  So here goes!


        Somewhere in the great desert ocean the mighty bird stretches her
wings.  Night is falling and the horizon slowly disappears into the stars. 
Now she must navigate by the southwestern tropical campfire's mambo raga
songs, their sounds rising from the desert floor up with the winds lifting
her higher and higher and finally giving her a dead reckon eastward, to the
oasis and her home.  Off to her right she sees the faint glimmer of...
... a small campfire, set quite a distance from the others.  There is no
music coming from this fire, and at the risk of losing her bearings, she
decides to investigate.  As she flies toward the lone campfire, the wind
begins to blow slightly colder.  The mighty desert bird sees one person
sitting by the campfire, trying to warm himself.  She senses an awful
loneliness coming from him, and as she approaches it gets worse.  As she
lands on the ground near the lonely man, he is frightened by her size and
power.  But the warm look in her eyes persuades him to begin to speak.  "Hey
there, beautiful bird," he says.  "You scared me.  But a lot seems to scare
me nowadays.  I've lost everything.  Apparently, I've lost my mind.  I don't
even know who I am.  There's a letter in my pocket addressed to Robert, so I
guess that's me.  But who is me?  Or should I say who am I?  I found myself
out here about two weeks ago, and I've been surviving on what food and water
I could find ever since.  And in case you're wondering, the contents of the
letter don't help at all.  It's one of the kind that says 'Hi, it's been a
long time, we should get together soon.'  But it doesn't even have a return
address.  It just says 'Joanne'.  Ah, well.  I could walk into town, I
suppose, but I'm afraid they'll put me in the loony bin, so that's out.  I
guess it's just me and you now, bird."  The bird settled down to get more
comfortable.
        "Looks like you've decided to stay.  Good, I could use the company
and the ears."  Robert laid down and put his arm behind his head for a
pillow.  "Actually, I don't have that much more to say.  I'm just so lonely.
I MUST be crazy, I'm talking to a bird.  No offense, of course.  Maybe I
escaped FROM a loony bin.  Nah, I must be crazy NOW 'cuz I don't remember
BEFORE now.  I'm worried that I am- was- whatever- some kind of bad person. 
Maybe this happened because I did something bad.  But I don't FEEL like a
bad person.  Maybe something happened to me, and so I forgot it and
everything that went before it.  I wish I could be like you, bird.  Free. 
Beautiful and free."
        That was when the bird decided to speak, not out loud, but in the
man's head.  "Don't you understand, Robert?  That's why you're here.  That's
why you can't remember your past.  You are finally free.  And you are
beautiful.  You're ready to move on from everyone else now.  Come, there is
much to learn."  And Robert looked down at himself and was shocked to see
that he had become a beautiful bird.

        



There it is, folks.  Hope you liked it!    Love, Alicia