Amusements; or, a Winter Novel

Chapter 11 - The Boy Who Could Fly

Chapter 11 - The Boy Who Could Fly

Nighttime comes, and I had already officially moved in: things from the furniture to the lightbulbs have been implemented, and Kuma seemed to be adjusting to life in the new house, bought and not rented, nicely.

It was also my first exposure to owning quite a sizeable house. Its largeness is something that can take a lot of time in order to get used to, apropos features from the quality to the space. The haecceity and isness aroused in me the notion and thought that I'm no longer that boy from the Boiling Isles of modest means, whose parents and family were modest in stature and status as they were in height and wealth who believed in Belos as a divine deity. I'm now a wealthy and thriving young man who now, almost atheistically, sees Belos not as a God, but a profane small-man.

I look at the crucifix at my entrance door as I lament my family's death, and pray to Jesus the Savior that their souls be saved by Him and His Father, God the Almighty.

I'm not a fanatic. Fanatic zealotry was - and still is in my eyes - a vestige of the old world. Run by a cantankerous and emotionally inept and incontinent tyrant of much power!! I hold the French liberal belief in congeniality, freedom, and tolerance. The belief which suggests that acceptance, open-mindedness, and antagonism against tyrannical iniquity and cruel fascism politically detriments the idea of society, rather than remedies it.

I scorn Belos as much as everyone else around me. For they tempt people with the dreamy 'cockaigne' of a law-and-order type society which puts everyone in their place in a democratic manner, that in reality is innately deeply corrupt and anti-humanitarian. Because of that, I hold Belos and his surviving followers with contempt.

I ingratiate myself in the glory and freshness of the feeling of having moved to a new house. The new environment, the smell, the certainly clean streets, it all feels so wondrously... clean! And fresh. And it's this feeling that's hard to describe without using the vernacular of a germaphobe.

That was when I got a knock on my door.

*knock knock*

"Hmm..." I wondered to myself: "I wonder who could that be...?"

I stepped towards my entrance.

*step step, step step, etc., etc.*

Then I answered the door.

"Hello?" I said as I opened the door.

"Hey hey, neighbor!" said Luz.

"Oh hey, Luz!" I said. "Oh, and her dashing, lovely wife."

"'Sup, Helios!" said Amity.

"Well, then." I said. "Come on, right in! To my new house!"

"Thanks." said Luz.

"So you ARE visiting?" I asked.

"Don't take it personally." said Amity. "This was *her* idea."

"Alright, then!" I said.

I then, like a common white suburban American, invited them over in my new abode.

"Welcome to the 'Chez de la Feu-Humaine, non Dieu'." I said as they stepped inside.

"Wow." Luz said as she closed the door behind her in courtesy. "This is a nice place you got here. So spacious. So... so-"

"Grand." I cut her off. "I know. Could hardly believe it myself still."

"It's nice!" Luz said to Amity. "Right?"

"Um, sure. Yeah." Amity said.

"Come in here;" I said: "I've got something I'm quite excited to show people when they're just visiting."