A Stop Wise Clover For Gorgo's Wife

By Matti Charlton

"Who is it?" asked the man. "Is someone there?"

There was no reply.

"Hello? Is someone there?"

Still no answer.

The man climbed out of bed and moved slowly across the floor, reaching out in front of him to ensure that he didn't bump into anything while moving blindly through the dark room.

He looked in the mirror. And looking back at him, was her. She wondered how things got this way, how far had she come. Was it far enough?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Matti Charlton
• Release date: Mar 12, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215148433

Matti Charlton

Matti Charlton is writer, designer and recording artist. They live in Toronto, Canada with their service dog, Quentin.Matti is autistic, queer and transgender and writes passionately about social issues and modern technology; most recently, with their book "Homelessness broke ChatGPT" casting a critical eye on the bias of the popular AI software. Matti has also written several children's books and young adult novels.Matti is an advocate for trans issues, mental health and poverty, especially homelessness and addiction.Matti's career has spanned a wide range of disciplines, from software development and art direction to fashion design, music production and writing. In 2023, they published their 12th album of electronic pop music, "Almost", and their first fiction novel "Dendrome".Matti created the first transgender-owned underwear company in the world, Retromatti Athletics, in 2014, manufacturing the entire line from their apartment in downtown Toronto. The company expanded to provide digital artwork to craft makers during COVID-19.Matti's website: https://matticharlton.com/On Facebook: https://facebook.com/matticharltonOn Instagram: https://instagram.com/retromattiMatti's books: https://books.matticharlton.com/Matti's music: https://spotify.matticharlton.com/Matti's online business: https://retromatti.com/

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The History Of The Music Industry: 1950 to 1969

The History Of The Music Industry: 1930 to 1949

The History Of The Music Industry: 1910 to 1929

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A Stop Wise Clover For Gorgo's Wife

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A Stop Wise Clover for Gorgo's Wife

matti charlton

Copyright ©2022-2023 matti charlton

A stop wise clover for gorgo's wife

matti charlton

Contents

Arrival 1

Disintegration 15

In Which Miscellaneous Worldly Possessions Are Or Are Not Encouraged 21

The Plunge 29

It's Not That 39

Everywhere 45

Happy Birthday 55

The House 63

On The Possibility of going home 67

Taken Aback 71

Reunion 77

Heaven 83

A Big Mirror 93

The Morris House 99

Recall 105

Planes 109

Dedication Page

This is paragraph one of the dedication text on the dedication page.

This is paragraph two of the dedication text on the dedication page.

This is the author thanking a list of people: Person One, Person Two, Dog Person Three, Etc.

Copyright ©2022-2023 matti charlton.

originally written sunday the 18th day

of december in the common year of 2022.

written from the city of toronto,

in the country of canada, on planet earth.

Arrival

A room. A man sitting at a desk. He approached them.

I am here to see the person who came with you.

The man in the chair says nothing, but his eyes dart around the room. He is dressed in an old-fashioned suit and tie, and his face is drawn and tired. He's thin, and his hair is slicked back against his skull. His voice sounds like he's been talking too much lately. He has that look on his face.

Are you the person? The man in the chair asks again. He doesn't know why he does it, but he wants to make sure.

Yes, I say. I'm the person.

Are you from the future? Are you the person sent to save us all?

I sit down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. The man looks up at me.

I don't think so, I tell him.

Then what are you doing here?

I came because I was told to come here.

By whom?

My boss.

Your boss.

Yes.

What is your boss's name?

That's a very good question, I say.

The man in the chair takes a deep breath. He turns away from me and stares out the window. He puts his hands together on the armrests of his chair, and his fingers touch.

Can you take off your helmet? he asks.

I stand up and put my hand on my helmet. Then I lift it off and place it on the ground next to me.

It's very heavy, I tell him.

The man looks at me again. What did they do to you?

Who?

Them. The people who brought you here. What did they do to you?

They gave me a job to do, I say.

The man sighs and closes his eyes. He runs his hands through his thinning hair. It's grey now, and there's just a little left on top of his head. He shakes his head, and then opens his eyes.

I'm going to ask you once more, he says. What is your boss's name?

Boss?

Yes. The person who hired you. Who paid you to come here. Who sent you here to save us all.

No one sent me, I tell him. I came by myself.

Why would someone send you here to save us all?

They didn't. They just sent me to get some information.

Information? What kind of information?

Information about our past, I say.

What?

I want to find out about the first time we met.

We met before?

Yes.

When?

I don't remember. I have no memory of it at all.

How many times have you met?

Just once.

Where?

Here.

Here?

Yes. Here.

Here in this building?

Yes.

And you're from the future.

Yes.

How do you know that?

Because I came from the future.

The man laughs. He covers his mouth with his hand, but the laughter comes anyway.

I'm sorry, he says. You must be joking.

No, I'm not.

You're telling me that you came here from the future.

Yes.

And you can't remember meeting me.

That's right.

So how do you know that we met?

Because I have a note.

A note?

Yes.

What's written on it?

That we met, and that we talked about something important.

Important? What is it?

I reach into my jacket pocket and take out a piece of folded paper. I open it and hold it up for him to see. There's a single word written on it.

I can't read it, he says.

It's my name, I say.

Your name?

Yes.

That's your name?

Yes.

Why would anyone write your name on a piece of paper?

To prove that I'm from the future.

The man shakes his head. I don't believe you.

You don't have to.

But why would someone send you here from the future if you don't remember anything about us?

I guess they didn't tell me everything.

Then what do you know about us?

Nothing really.

But you must have some idea of where we came from.

No. I only know that we were created here in this city.

By whom?

I don't know.

What is your boss's name?

That's a very good question, I say.

The man stands up and walks around behind his desk. He sits down in the chair and leans back. He folds his arms across his chest.

Do you have any proof that you came from the future?

Proof?

Yes. Anything that might help prove it?

Yes.

What is it?

I've got my notes.

Notes?

Yes. Notes. Things that I wrote down when I was here before.

Where are they?

I don't know.

You don't know?

No.

But you came back here. You came back to the same place you went before.

Yes.

So how do you not know where you left them?

I don't know.

Well, what did you write on them?

Words. And numbers. And pictures.

What words?

Names of people. Places. Things.

What things?

Things like: a hundred years. A thousand years. A billion years. A trillion years. Time travel. And other things like that.

Other things?