Idylls of a Lazurai

"The fate of the World is in your hands."

What a bunch of hogwash.

It wasn't just one world - it was all of them. And my one pair of hands wasn't going to cut it.

So I brought along a couple of buddies of mine.

Both as arrogant as me, just as self-centered, and we also thought we knew everything.

Of course, that's the point where they handed us our sheepskins and the reins to the multi-verse.

Helluva learning curve.

Good thing we didn't take them seriously.

Because only our meta-math minds saved us.

And you, too.

Oh - you thought you were just along for the ride?

Think again...

Excerpt:

Following a familiar feminine scent, I suddenly came out of the stacks into a small reading area mid-stacks. And there she was. But before I did anything else, a tore off another corner and scribbled a glyph on it. Once burnt, twice shy.

Once I focused on her again, I saw – over her bare shoulder – that there was a plate of sliders and a tall dew-covered carafe of tea waiting as well – at least it looked like that.

Without turning, she asked me, "So, Joe, are you just going to stand there, or should we just wait and let these hot fresh sandwiches grow cold?"

I could now make out the smell of their fried goodness from where I stood. "No, of course not. I didn't realize how hungry I'd gotten with all that walking."

And as I rounded the end of the mission style oak couch to turn toward where she sat, I was reminded of another hunger. While her legs were crossed, and her arms folded her chest, she wore nothing beneath.

My feet kept me from moving forward. At least I closed my mouth. But my eyes didn't know where to look, so they settled on her dark, almost bottomless eyes.

"You don't know what to say – so male-geek of you. Oh – that's because you're embarrassed. Let me put on something to assuage those moral senses of yours."

One of her index fingers moved slightly and she was now clothed in flannel pajama's, in a tartan plaid of greens with brown and red highlights.

I still considered my options. And still couldn't think of anything to say that wasn't school-boy idiot-speak.

She moved her left arm and patted the brown leather cushion to that side of her. "Come. Sit. I won't bite you – unless you want me to."

As I settled down, still a bit tense, I could smell her personal wild rose and Russian Olive fragrance, like the spring fence rows of the farm I was raised on. Quite different than the musty stacks of books I was just traveling through.

Gaia sat back, a slider in her own hand, munching daintily. "You know, these really are good."

"But why have you led me here?"

"Oh, something of interest to both of us."

"Such as?"

"In two weeks, our world will end. And you have to stop it."