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The Collar of the Two Skies chapter 7

 






Chapter 7



 Yeah, they don't 'emphafize' with girls like that... actually, they don't empathize with any kind of girls... they just won't admit it. Whatever, I can manage on my own. I plan to see what's in that backpack... maybe there's another collar that can turn me back... maybe I can somehow find a way to open that portal."




Bise curled up on one of the black leather armchairs in the living room, brooding far away from the other furries, who were still upset with her over a joke.




"It’s so boring to just vegetate here all by myself... I should at least read something. I think I know where Aeolus hides a book or two for reading, and I think he has a book of poetry..."




Both the sofa and the armchairs in Anemo's house had these pocket-like pouches at the back that closed with Velcro. More than once, missing items from around the house had mysteriously turned up in those pockets... keys, the remote, pens, a wallet, and so much else.




So, our Remi elegantly stood up on her four little paws, leaped behind the armchair, and checked the pocket. Out of it tumbled a ball of pink mohair yarn, and before she even realized what was happening, the famous author found herself playing with the ball, completely mesmerized by it.




"Oh no! Look what I did, I unraveled half of it! Let me roll it back up."




But the yarn refused to be tamed at all, and her little claws kept snagging on the angora thread... those claws only knew how to unravel, not how to wind it back up. And the more her writer’s reason pleaded, "calm down, come on, you can do this!", the more her feline instinct took over. The ball of yarn, after trying to bind her and hold her captive, finally surrendered—or rather, scattered everywhere, looking just like a pink fishing net...




"Serves you right for trying to tie me up!" Bise scolded it, strutting off proudly to check the second pocket. In this one, there really was a book.




"Aha! What do we have here? Looks like I'm about to discover your poetic side... you crazy thing!"




Getting the book up on the sofa, opening it, and flipping through the pages was child's play compared to the nightmare of her own phone’s glass screen.




"Let me read then... I don't even care that the boys are ignoring me anymore... I'm ignoring them too, and their master, along with all his sheep!"




She began to read:




" imagine how God looks at us 




reproachfully and tenderly




and cannot understand how 




after so many floods




we 




have never absorbed 




the philosophy




the wisdom 




of enough "




"Brr!" the white cat shuddered. "That one is deep!" Let's see what else our man writes under a pen name... And what a pen name he chose! Indigo Soul.


"if you read me


read me alone 




no edge no pathos a whisper 




like a mystery 




don't search for hidden meanings


how"




"Not bad... I actually am going to read you... all by myself, since your tomcats won't talk to me because, heaven forbid, I laughed at your style, or rather, at your sheep pajamas. But I... I just couldn't help myself, you know. I didn't mean any harm. True, that remark... but your furries act like they're some kind of Knights of the Round Table and you're Arthur... I'll read one more, then I'm off to deal with the backpack."




 "poet or not




on the blank page 




independent of




 the facile




the cliché




the dated




my muse furnishes




fantasy 




with an old porch 




and 




an infinity pool




 a rusty sky




a philosopher cat




feline 




and a pendulum in the background




which




is background noise




not the guardian of time




don't you come in boots




don't bring a tape measure




nor a spirit level




nor demand




a request in triplicate




in a cardboard folder "




"Alright, God of the poem. I promise I will never laugh at you again!"




Remi-Bise barely had time to finish her thought when the bronze ring on the front door and the doorbell started an agitated, incredibly annoying duet. It was, of course, Arcibald Peter Stone, alias Arbalest—worked up, sweating, and absolutely furious.




Anemo, his hair now a bit less messy, wearing a simple yellow t-shirt and loose brown linen trousers, calmly opened the door for him.




"What's burning? Where?"




But Arbalest barged right in, making himself at home:




"Where is that woman? You said you found her! Where is she then?"




"Arci, are you okay? Did something happen to your wife? Did she leave you... maybe?"




"I'm talking about Remi, you idiot!"




The two of them went into the kitchen, and Arcibald slammed the door hard behind him.




"Alright, I can't wait any longer!" Remi thought. "It's now or never!" And leaving Indigo Soul's poems behind on the sofa, she headed toward the coat rack with determination.




"Let me show you how to hijack a backpack!"



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