Hank and Duke journey towards the Levitated Mass at Los Angeles County Museum of Art (pt. 1 of 2)

27 Oct

Duke: “Boy, am I a breath of wind.”

Hank: “We only turned a sharp corner, nincompoop.”

“I seen the wind shift directions, so we aren’t in a cactus no more.”

“Where on earth have our battered feet taken us?”

“To the Yeti monster’s death lair, or something. I don’t want nothing to do with his sharp sharpness let me tell you.”

“I cannot sense foul play, for this place reminds me of artistic expression gone awry.”

“I give lots of expressions I think or, at least, try.”

“Come, let us go sit on that floating boulder and enjoy the view.”

[photo courtesy of Janine Saunders Sands]

“No, Hank, the Yeti monster doesn’t like company. I’ve heard it through the stringy vine or whatever the name squared.”

“Are those squires being eaten?”

“Depends on what you mean. They have them invisibility cloaks so the monster can’t pick up their sense.”

“You mean scent.”

“Like wafting a piece of paper.”

“Hurry before the sun dips low. The mighty boulder should cool by then and will be far too cold to sit on.”

“But, it’s booby-trapped Hank.”

“Grab your king’s cloak and listen.”

“Will you raise my wife and marry my children if I do?”

“Blabbering buffoon, no ill will come to you.”

“All right, but I warned you.”

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J.R. Leyvas

Writer, blogger, aspiring Fantasy author, screenwriter, poet