Chapter Thirty: Cafe Bereshit

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 26, 2008 @ 10:00 am

Veronica would not let him alone. He couldn’t stand another minute of it. There was no respite. Insects, birds and even rats turned to look at him, messengers from the other world, spectres of her wayward spirit sent to bring him back. His resolve to scatter her ashes came and went by the day, by [...]

Chapter Thirty-One: The Wild Man

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 25, 2008 @ 10:00 am

Promethea had an audition before work. She and Felix stood on the street in front of a vacant lot. The weeds in the lot were broken and yellow. They stood on guard. There were dogs living in the building behind the lot. Even in the day one might come suddenly upon them. “I’m all wrong [...]

Chapter Thirty-Two: Back in the Saddle

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 24, 2008 @ 1:13 pm

Felix came to a broad, fast river. The far shore glowed in the low sunlight, a deep dark red, and on the near bank stands of plane trees shivered in the breeze. He had come there through a quiet, autumnal oak wood that smelled strongly of mushrooms, of fallen leaves and decomposing bark. A soft [...]

Chapter Thirty-Three: The Met

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 23, 2008 @ 1:15 pm

86th and Lex was as close as they could get to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. It was early evening. A few grim automobiles pulled up in front of the imposing old buildings, depositing men and women in overcoats with umbrellas. They walked west, to Fifth Avenue and then south a few blocks through the [...]

Chapter Thirty-Four: Chariots

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 22, 2008 @ 10:00 am

Sitting and laughing by the lake after a long swim he thought, if only I wasn’t alone. The sun was just above the mountains and everything was hot and still. Every now and again a cicada unwound its harsh song or a butterfly wandered in among the nearby bramble of honeysuckle. Felix dozed off and [...]

Chapter Thirty-Five: Connections

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 21, 2008 @ 1:24 pm

Blinking back the bright light, Jacob Boyle surveyed the contents of his refrigerator without comprehension. Once again Bryson had drunk him under the table and he regretted it. Actually, he enjoyed the various dives they had found. There was Bereshit, there was Acrasia. Strange names but it was a strange neighborhood. Still, whiskey was whiskey [...]

Chapter Thirty-Six: Shadowgraphs

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 20, 2008 @ 1:25 pm

Felix left Gametria and headed uptown. It took a little over an hour to get to 110th street. Sometimes he crossed over in the seventies or eighties but now that the weather was better the park could be menacing. He wasn’t in the mood to beat back dogs and he certainly didn’t want to talk [...]

Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Bower of Coincidence

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 19, 2008 @ 1:34 pm

Transitions were never clear. It was not a matter of two incommensurate states. Rather he was where the edges of many clouds merged. In the old days he would doze off in the garden, or stand transfixed by a light beam, and awaken gently in his own bed, suffused with warmth and light and a [...]

Chapter Thirty-Eight: In the Arms of Judas Priest

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 18, 2008 @ 10:00 am

Bryson was used to administering a large staff that performed all of the tasks she was now performing. She reviewed reports, attended virtual meetings where all of the participants were aliases, was briefed over cocktails, but she rarely if ever laid her hands upon an instrument, administered a pill or monitored a readout. Paradigmatic cases [...]

Chapter Thirty-Nine: Is That All There Is?

Filed under:The Man Who Can't Die — posted by jonfrankel on March 17, 2008 @ 1:44 pm

Bryson arrived back at the lab at 3 am. Felix was flat on his back in the muted light. Monitors ticked and scanners hummed, a dull green glow came from the analog displays. He was producing the steady, coordinated activity of Penumbra. She examined his drone and it was invariantly odd. In the first weeks [...]


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