Anna-Marie With Her Shotgun -- Part Two -- Anna-Marie -- Reminder Of France

Now on this boat of boats, I bring my grand kids, Ursula (named after my sister), and Pate onto the boat with me. It didn't want to become involve with any more anarchism, at least not yet. I'd rather spend time tending to the giant bows of my daughter and grand daughter. To think that having kids would completely change your life. For me, this meant getting back into cooking. When you poor, you can't afford the best living quarters on the ship, but at least the Pate D'Alsace was good enough.

I resisted the temptation to vomit.

It wasn't just the coming sea-sickness, but all the memories. I had briefly dated one woman who would be decapitated after Napoleon retook Paris. She was a short girl, no more than about five foot nothing. She would tell me stories of the time her father would give her prized horses. At the time I had nothing but envious feelings, despite the fact that I knew, in truth, the fact that was I was even alive to see my new friend was nothing short of a fluke of nature. I knew that if I had been any other young lass, my head would be placed on a pike for all to sea. Without the benefit of a pardon from the King.

It still took a while to become comfortable enough to talk about my own life with her, as years of sexual abuse has the tendency to build up like a large amount of uncleared wax. I wanted to know what the new world would be like. I want to become a journalist, but I haven't even written a poem in months. In those months since I was out of the commune, I went through periods of suicidal idealization. Only being released from my torment when I saw the arch angel Michael, whom held out his hand out of affection, and asked my my name on all those years ago. His voice this of a true angel, and not an abomination:

We live in a secret Kingdom.

Yet the kingdom is known to so few.

A kingdom of endless strawberries.

Where one can retire those wooden shoes.

It was difficult to find myself talking to any man, but there was something different. My grand-daughter Ursula, woke me up, and told me that my daughter arranged a "gift" from the chef, who wanted to know the real life story of the great anarchist whom once was a serial murderess. But I simply wanted to forget that aspect of my past, and simply move on.

And retire my wooden shoes.

When I had finally settled into a new apartment, originally it was going to be in the North East, but do to various factors I ended up settling under the Mason Dixon line.

It was never an easy thing getting used to living outside of my home country. I remember growing up, smelling the baking of fresh bread, and the various flavors freshly picked sold in various shops. But now in the US, it was in a period of reconstruction after the civil war. I've heard that living in Seattle and New York were almost completely different worlds. Smack dab into the center of the Earth, and you'll find the demons here bickering on which cultural heritage was the best. But it was never something that I completely understood. After all, it was all the same soil. But I've heard certain things about Lincoln, and some are worried that he may end up being lionized, although this is mainly a fear that I've heard expressed in less enlightened circles.

Sometimes we would visit Louisiana, close to the Coast. It used to be considerably larger than what it is today: for a considerable period of time, France was leery about selling off the land. But when they started overreaching like a bad case of British arrogance, they were more eager to narrow down their assets and stick to African regions where they were severing people's arms and legs, as they had built up something of a relationship with the Native Americans, in contrast with the British culture beginning to take center stage. And now, with people thinking the death of the horse and buggy is looming on the horizon, the only way forward is to go up.

But there was no visiting lady Liberty.

I didn't want to be reminded of France.

posted by JustSarah @ 22nd Sep 2018, 6:07 PM