The Hamptons

Notes from the Intergalactic Travelling Companion::4

deborah moulton :: Hamptons Intergalactica

I fear Morn’s political situation has deteriorated. I regret to inform you, that, as of today, all travel to and from this beleaguered planet has been suspended pending the outcome of the violent civil war that threatens the very fabric of the universe – to say nothing of polite society.

In fact, my dear friend, Ambassador Grizzlob is, at this very moment, hiding out in my basement where he occupies himself growing mushrooms in dark corners. He is concerned that if the conflict spills over to this planet, there may indeed be a run on mushrooms and he does not want to be caught short. Although I have sprayed the exterior of my house with Muvin deterrent, I can tell that they have been creeping about my property in the night searching for the good ambassador.

While I am happy to assist the ambassador, I am also trying to rent out my house for the summer and I foresee difficulties explaining to summer tenants that there is a fugitive Gorbul hiding out in my basement. I think I will wait until I have a signed lease in hand before revealing the ambassador’s presence. Alas, I have learned that renters can be quite unreasonable in their demands. In past years, I have been requested to whitewash all my floors to give a more “beachy” look to my house. I have been told that I really should replace my Koi pond with a pool, and that my priceless collection of carved mushroom art must go.

Truthfully, Ambassador Grizzlob does not help the situation. Just the other day, a broker brought by a lovely couple who did not seem bothered by the lack of a pool and were actually quite complimentary of my mushroom collection. The broker, in fact, gave me a triumphant smile and a thumbs-up gesture (which turned out to be premature). For, at that point, the ambassador, who must have had his head pressed against the basement door, scrambled out and launched into an enthusiastic lecture on the mushroom carvers of Morn.

Although the renters listened politely to the four foot high ambassador in his elegant Mumu, veils and sunglasses, they seemed uncomfortable when he announced that he lived in my basement where he was farming several species of mushrooms. The Gorbul ambassador went on to say he was looking forward to sharing a summer in the Hamptons with them and promised nightly lectures on the finer points of mycology. Grizzlob ended his exuberant spiel with a guarantee that by summer’s end they would know everything there was to know about mushrooms and then some.

The broker has not returned my calls.

Deborah Moulton – Official Scribe of Morn

In Deborah Moulton’s own words: When my children were very small, I would spin them stories about faraway places filled with imaginary characters. When my children were slightly bigger, I wrote several books. When my children got expensive (as children do), I stopped writing and entered the job market. After a long twenty years of teaching and desk jobs, I have returned to writing and have just put back into print my first book, The First Battle of Morn ( sci-fi) which was published in 1988 and am half way through the sequel. lifeguard stand

March 23rd, 2009 Posted by | imaginary tales | no comments

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