Fenn is still opting out, 36,016 words

 Fenn is still in this maybe epiphany maybe depression maybe break from reality. At least I was able to write a little bit further into the story today. 

“My name is Lorina Rigaux” yells a megaphone “and I would do anything to avoid a lineup” who is this fool

makeshift stage in front of the oracle shop

eight foot tall effigies of Fenn’s outfit, which is just Nick Cave’s soundsuit after all, hopefully the artist is making some money off of this

“WHERE IS THE BULLSHIT ORACLE” screams the megaphone “WE DEMAND THE BULLSHIT ORACLE” the crowd cheers

the audacity, thinks Fenn, as if I owe them something, as if they can demand that I show up, these fucking ants think their problems are important 

“I HAVE HAD A TODDLER’S ARMS AROUND MY NECK FOR ALMOST A YEAR AND I NEED IT GONE!!!” the megaphone sounds unhinged, Fenn can see it now, a person standing there with, yes, a toddler’s hands clenched around its throat, the crowd is screaming now, “REMOVE THE CURSE REMOVE THE CURSE THE CURSE IS BULLSHIT” how did this happen, Fenn responsible for the problems of the world, isn’t the world supposed to be over by now? 

they must have solved it, saved the bats and the UFOs and the underwater cave and the job of some other poor bastard Oracle. Fenn sits down on the ground and cries. Someone standing next to them looks down, starts crying, and sits. The sitting and crying spreads outward in a wave, everyone on Yorkville ave is sitting and crying, all facing in to the centre of the circle, all facing Fenn. Sobs and screams and wails and hitting the pavement with hands and covering faces and mouths and contorting everything and shaking fists at the sky shaking fists at the sky shaking fists at the ground at the effigies at Lorna’s cursed scarf at fate at the gods at capitalism at life at this world that someone said was beautiful, at breath and heartbeats and words and concepts I called them ants but I wish I was an ant, an ant has a job to do and I have nothing I have nothing I have nothing this is bullshit.

Then Nick Cave was standing beside Fenn, Nick Cave was crying and standing there with kind eyes, Fenn hated kind eyes, and holding out a hand, Fenn hated hands, but there was nothing else to do so Fenn took Nick’s hand and stood up. They walked away from the crying crowd, the weeping world, through a back alley painted with murals of flowers smiling and showing their shining teeth, back door of The Lair, back room of The Lair, quiet.