Lunanity Love Life Cult Love Letter for Luna Book 16

By Steve Howard

Day 244 was partly in the last book. So we are still on the beach with the world reconnaissance crew. I may admit I am in love and a secret from our last life. How come and is it all the same.

Day 245 Still a little unfocused but we are introduced to Little Loon. And her mother. Mr. Wolf says hi. A bull moose takes a big shit in the lake and our travellers come to a location that is so beautiful and perfect that they decide to start a town. It is called Narnok Harbour. Some will stay. And there are a few islands to explore and science to do and fun.

Day 246. Some visit the first island, some stay to work on the town hall and a few take a trip to the second island. And it has a bit of a mountain so that there is a river and waterfall. A time in paradise where there is friendship and peace. Like in any fable or religion, what are the same things. A nice fable is told around the campfire over and over and it becomes cult. And cult, when pricks take ownership, becomes religion. And then it gets turned inside out and upside down so that no one reads it anymore and goes online to watch idiots do stupid shit and buy jeans and shoes. And tops.

Day 247 After days on the second island of paradise, we return to Narnok Harbour. We get some philosophy or some kind of babbling about one thing or the other and a kid’s story informative astrophysics kind. And it is time for a nap here on Sunday. A band tonight so I must take the day slow. At least that is how we play it here in semi isolation, dread and lonely sorrow.

248 has some speculating, fantasizing and reporting before we take a trip with Poopeenah and land in a land so different than were we are but in some places it is history. With being left in a rusty cage hanging in a dead tree in the wind and rain when fortunate. Otherwise a killing blistering sun. Without shade, it’s no fun.

249 It is subtle but the observant reader will see it coming. Something is going to happen. Someone is going to be somewhere. And in the story, the original, Esau and Jacob are born the same time. Just so you know. With a red ribbon.

250 was, or is, was for I just read it, is if you are in it. And the what it is is a wonderful fizz. A happy babbling brook. Catch a fish without a hook. Much speculation and proposed elation. The galaxy awaits our participation. So get up and sit down. Have a good read and let it sink in and pull out. Let it sink and let it float. Then you will start to see what it is that is looking at you and waiting for you to recognize it. Cognize it again and again.

251 To brighten up an otherwise dull day, how about the Clowns live in Studio 30. Man did it stink in there by the end of the wild concert. Fans giving it as much as the musicians. All the way from the other side of the planet. And in our book, the ship is travelling up the coast past the north pole. Cold. And some killer whales, seals, dolphins.

“And bunnies.”

And one of the nicer poems that I would like to have to music. We see soon. And a few quotes from Blake. From Heaven and Hell. Brilliant philosophy. Simon brought it for Namor.

252 has our bounty hunters on land in South America. Tim and his wife leave them to it and sail home. Jimmie wants his birth name back. Esau Wild. Joseph agreed to do the paper work. And our exploring crew has made camp south of the permafrost on the other side of the planet. They make a temporary city center. Something else was talked about. Something about us being it.

253 Our travelling ship makes camp farther south and Esau and Anna Lucia are in a hotel making plans and some research. I am sinking into isolated dread. No good reason other than it is Monday and there ain’t nothing I wanna do. Could look at photos but I will wait till tomorrow. Let them simmer. So they look fresh.

254 is more bashing about with some of our main characters. We visit shortly a world where the sky is the limit. It is like a glass roof but n

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Howard
• Release date: Dec 5, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005902797

Steve Howard

Born in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada 1960. Moved to London, Ontario, Canada in 1967. Started playing hockey and piano. Went to Sir Wilfred Laurier High School and played the trumpet.Studied Architectural Technology at Fanshawe College of Applied Arts and Sciences. Started playing guitar and writing a little. On a trip to the mountains in 1982 with a friend I decided, or was awakened to the knowledge that I was going to pursue writing. Graduated 1984 and moved to Toronto.Moved to Saarbrücken, Germany in 1993.Have traveled many places in North, Middle and South America and Europe.Besides reading and writing also work on photography and music.

Book preview

Lunanity

Love Life Cult

Love Letter for Luna

Book 16

Steve Howard 773U5

PUBLISHED BY:

Steve Howard 773U5 on Smashwords

Second Genesis

Copyright © 2022 by Steve Howard 773U5

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission by the copyright owner and the publisher of this book except in the case of quotations embodied in critical articles, essays and reviews.

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Table Of Content

day 244 17.01.2021

day 245 18.01.2021

day 246 19.01.2021

day 247 20.01.2021

day 248 21.01.2021

day 249 22.01.2021

day 250 23.01.2021

day 251 24.01.2021

day 252 25.01.2021

day 253 26.01.2021

day 254 27.01.2021

day 255 28.01.2021

book 16

day_244_17.01.2021

Proly gonna gotta stick a title, even a description of the 36 books of FLTL. I was thinking, take the fuck out later. But in the near future there be no joke in it. I had a better idea but forgot. And the snow is melting. Even though the night fell upon us. Almost spring. Maybe there won’t be a civil war in America. Perhaps there will be dancing in the streets. People laughing and smiling at the people that they meet.

Hey, we are in the plus sum gain era. First time ever.

How fucking cool is that.

What do we do now.

And here we need a story to keep us from the dread of peace and space technology so everyone can do most anything anywhere with anyone. ‘Cause if they speak different languages, speak into your translator. You think you got reason to wonder what someone believes, fuck it. What’s the difference. We all wanna get to heaven. We made it.

Piss up a rope and say nay to authority from the pope.

Kick up your heels and climb a tree piss in the wind.

Roll a spliff and drink a beer with a pickled egg.

Wave your ass, thumb your nose ain’t a sin.

Swing your partner round the floor and out the door.

Across the glade, in the shade, you got it made.

Down the river, over the falls, in the wilds.

Swirly round and round sometimes above or below the ground.

Fuck that was trying to get at some text in the tune a song plays thing. And we won’t read it back on account that don’t happen until the book is done. We are on the run. So many pages to fill. No time to waste. The angels are all in their place. The crows in the tree shit in your face. I think I’m gonna have just a wee bit of Mincemeat on an old oatmeal cookie. Forgot to eat the stupid things.

I wanna piss in the wind.

Anna Lucia laughed. She knew Lilly meant it. She was inclined to go visit the farm and piss in the wind with her. But Lilly was in Bagdad for a meeting and Anna Lucia was in a cafe in Tahiti with her lover on the other side of her phone. Jimmie was talking to Tim and not paying attention to the girls pining for sex in the wild.

Don’t fuck in a tent if there are hungry bears around.

Don’t forget to pack your chute when you finally jump.

Always tell your mother you love her unless you don’t.

Back in the old days when you filled your truck at the pump.

There is nothing to do about it, Luna, the weekend is toast. History and extinguished, another word I can’t spell. Some English words are just wrong. Like anxious. Fuck me in a hot air balloon basket.

Any particular day.

So I’ll likely eat a clementine and crawl under the cover and beam myself into a dream where we are in a, oh, now we are under an opened tent, watching the fire. A few of the crew sit around it still and smoke. Drink coffee or hot chocolate. There was at least another day of not sailing.

And what are they doing.

They are laying on their mats, heads propped up on rolled up clothing so as to watch the nearest fire and the ship not far out in the water gently rolling in the waves. There was a small fire as well. There were people lit only on their fronts. Laughing and yelling. With no sound escaping the boarder of the waves slapping at the beach.

Barbaralba took Namor’s arms and wrapped them around her. She pulled his arms tight so that she was squeezed in tight, then she relaxed and paid attention to her Drave King breathing in from her skull.

And it came to pass that it was asked, are you certain this is a good idea. And he answer. My Nana arranged the marriage when she was a little girl and I was her papa reading a story about a love affair and marriage and happy ever after.

Can we get married, Papa. We are in love.

Not in this life, my golden child.

Then in our next life.

If I am not your father or brother.

I will be a complete stranger and you will know me at first sight.

I believe you, my love. Close your eyes and dream a pretty dream.

You promise.

Next time. When you become a woman.

I will be the most beautiful woman in the world.

Don’t forget your smile.

Papa kissed Goldie on the forehead and blew the candle out. He did not shut the door. Goldie and her sister liked the heat that came from the kitchen stove and they loved the smell of his pipe what he had before writing another story for his girls.

Girls.

A sister. A little younger.

Any other siblings.

Brother. But it does not matter.

Just wondering.

___toc___

day_245_18.01.2021

It’s a crazy thing, being alive, in love with a beautiful beast that you know through science, is an animal of instinct. No time more so than before it starts to comprehend its fellow creature’s sounds and words. That instinct is millions of years old.

Years looking for an idea. And watching it open up as real.

Love is a cool thing.

Anyhow. I think I was going to say about dark energy and dark matter. The most of the universe. For now I’m just saying. We don’t know so much. Other than this pen sucks somewhat. And is close to empty.

There is much too much to discover to know what it means to define the physical material real.

The word your narrator tries to avoid, other than myopic, is fucking reincarnation. For like the idea that there was a person who was real in the 2,000 year old story, the story was an old retold story.

No one is one.

Ain’t nothing new under the sun.

I dream of holding your bum.

We ain’t done a limerick for a million years. We try one.

Some other time. Maybe Asshole Patrick day.

Don’t be mean.

Ah. Fuck. I need a short bitch. The history of the Catholic Church is murder, rape and plunder. Why we allow the church to steal holidays. Well, it ain’t right.

There. I’m okay now.

Story time, kids.

Again, we jump on the back of Poopeenah, we better have a ‘h’ in there. For pronouncing. Not spelling. The little girl of my memory, like Suzi in Calvin and Hobbles, spelled it differently.

Oh. We are here.

Where are we, Papa.

We are in a planet, although the last was actually a satellite around a gas giant. Like Jupiter.

Papa.

Ah yes. The people of this planet or satellite, evolved in a very deep dark cave so far from the surface that there was no way to the surface. And not only did they not have eyes, they were prickly.

They could not touch any other Prikle Tickle without getting injured. In a crowded world, this was not good for carrying on with life.

But they could hear, right.

Papa laughed. His children were so fucking clever.

Yes, my love, they could hear. But they could not hear so well. And.

They could read stories.

They