Letters to Lelia – excerpt


“Why. Lily. Sad.” Purple asked, and Lily would have wanted to avoid the busybodies, but now that they were paying attention they were going to follow her with the questions everywhere, in unrelenting manner. She sighed and reluctantly answered.

“Humon is going to leave for his new sibling’s assembly, really soon.” She stopped for a second and continued with half a voice. “They really wanted him to go back to Vlor, what if they don’t let him come back?”

Purple uttered the auditory equivalent of an eye roll, if one could conceive of something like that.

“Wisp. Never. Go. Anywhere.” they charged. “Lily. Not. Know. Wisp.” Lily tried to interrupt the stream of indignation, but the immortals were on a roll. “Why. Choose. Relationship. Unknown. Species.” they ranted. “Lily. Solid.”

“I…don’t understand,” Lily tried to reply, but Purple continued its unbroken stream of prickly wisdom.

“Wisp. Get. All. Places. Same. Wisp. Here. Wisp. There. Wisp. Never. Move.”

“You mean to tell me he’s still on Vlor? Right now?” Lily asked, shocked, staring at the silhouette of her beloved projected against the turquoise waters of the ocean.

“Define. Is.” Purple rehashed a subject that had driven the sisters to the brink of their patience and sanity centuries ago. Lily looked at the ethereal being in the distance, whose body was melting in and out of reality in long strands of color and light that bent and twisted around themselves like pulled taffy. She wanted to get closer to witness the multi-dimensional phenomenon of an entity being in several realities at the same time, but Purple protested sharply.

“Lily. Not. Go. Through. Wisp. Intrusion. Rude.” they continued more appeased. “Wisp. Welcome. Sibling.” they giggled. “Wisp. Cotton. Candy. Pull. Strand. Get. More. Wisp.”

Lily frowned, upset.

“Purple. Find. Lily. Boy.” the immortals proposed, again. “Purple. Make. Humon. If. Lily. Like.” they offered magnanimously.

“You mean like a cardboard cutout?” Lily finally burst, outraged.

“Exactly. Same. Lily. Can. Not. Tell. Different.”

“Why not make several?” Lily commented, sarcastically. “This way I can have one to keep at home and one for the office,” she elaborated.

“What does one need to do in order to be able to attend a Fusion Observance ceremony in peace?” Humon chimed his thoughts through the interlink. “Can you please have the conversation about making action figures of me later? It’s really distracting!”

“Tell. Lily. Three. Dimension. Humon. Better. Purple. Make. Why. Lily. Need. Multiverse. Humon. Lily. See. No. Different.” the immortals took the opportunity to get his approval on the matter, but Humon really meant it when he said that he wanted some peace and quiet and didn’t respond.

Purple’s need to express opinion and give advice simmered in uncomfortable silence for the duration of the ceremony, but as soon as the events were over the immortals let out a verbal deluge. They went over all the Humon replacement options with Lily, again and again, until the young woman decided to simply refuse to listen, and in the process they dislodged the boulder of wrath that had finally found precarious equilibrium in sister Joseph’s mind.

“As I live and breathe, didn’t I tell all of you nincompoops that the purple goo was going to drive us to lunacy, but who listens to me?! Shut up, you bacterial blabber, I don’t know why Lily puts up with your rattling on, but I’ve had it! Hey, cat-brains, are you going to let your kin drive this one nuts, obvious lapse in judgment notwithstanding?” she turned the verbal artillery to Sarah.

Sarah fretted, uncomfortable, because she could feel Purple’s unease about Lily’s relationship with Humon, unease a lot more intense than the other sisters knew, a tumultuous mix of reverence and apprehension with just a hint of jealousy.

“Purple. Want. Lily. Happy.” the immortals eventually relented. “Wisp. Too. Much. Trouble.” they continued softly. “Too. Many. Dimensions. One. Reality. Hard. Enough.”

(Letters to Lelia)