[Locked - Friends Only] Curiouser and Curiouser

[pameladlloyd]

Ugh. I woke up this morning with aches and pains in every joint. My neck is stiff and my head is all stuffy. Who knows what I've picked up. I just hope it's a regular cold virus, and not something exotic brought in from another dimension by one of the refugees.

I don't normally watch much television, but this morning I was too fuzzy to do much else, so I turned on one of the news channels. Politics, the economy, crime, celebrities and their foibles and box office triumphs, human interest stories about food or someone's cat or child prodigies. Everything, but this interdimensional muddle. I tried the big channels--CNN, ORB, MSNBC, even FOX. They were all eerily silent on this one topic.

So I got online and started looking. Again, the major news outlets had nothing. I finally, after trying about five different sets of search terms, found an article on one of the more, uhm, esoteric independent news zines. But, I was barely three paragraphs into the article when the text was replaced with a 404 error message. I also found a few bloggers who wrote about what's going on, but only the kookiest gave any real details, while the others seemed to either be trying to be cagey ("The recent disturbances blocking traffic in downtown areas across the country. . . .") or to denounce the refugees ("Authorities are cracking down on illegal aliens crossing interdimensional boundaries.") I'm going to have to be far more careful about what I say here, as I think the I**, or even one of the less overt agencies, may have spiders out, looking for direct references.

I also managed to make a few phone calls. I wasn't able to get through to most of them, and I didn't want to leave messages, since I'm feeling paranoid enough to wonder if some of my old friends' phone lines are bugged, but I did reach WR.

"Hello." He sounded really nervous and I hadn't even said anything, yet.

"R*****, it's me, P--"

"Hush, child. I know who you are. Oh, my, fuzzy--, ahem. Where--? Or, no. Don't tell me." I heard a loud clatter and had to pull the phone away from my ear. When I put it back, R***** said, "Sorry. I dropped the phone. Listen, I can't talk, I'm late for a meeting."

"But, this is imp--"

"Yes. I know. Be at the, ahem, be at the place where you first met me, tonight, at midnight."

And then he hung up.

So now I have to go to E* P***. I know this is all very abrupt, but whatever's going on, I'm beginning to suspect it has to do with, er, my first trip "away from home." Thank goodness my analogue here drives a Prius and the tank is almost full, so I don't have to worry, yet, about whether any of my credit or debit cards will work in this dimension. My Dad still lives there with my youngest brother, but I don't think it would be a good idea to involve them in this, so I'm planning on camping. I don't have a laptop, so my posts may be rather erratic, as I don't know how much time I'll have to stop by libraries.

Comments

[jmeadows.livejournal.com]

Oh man, be safe.

This keeps getting worse and worse, but DO check in with us when you can.

[pdlloyd.livejournal.com]

Of course. Thank you.

[asakiyume.livejournal.com]

Whoa, hope no one gets to the WR before tonight. Do keep posting whenever you can!

[pdlloyd.livejournal.com]

Ooh. That would have been bad. But, he's got Tia's protection, and P***'s. Which helps.