places I could go
While hunting for rodents in a nearby trash heap, Hawk found a very helpful book: Around the World in 1,000 Pictures. Now, when Crow squawks WHERE ARE YOU GOING? I flip open my new book and consider a page. (Read my last two posts to learn more about my Crow parrot’s persistent questioning.)
Here I am in my traveling outfit with Crow (as parrot):
Oh the places we could go!
[click photos to enlarge]
Ah, the Virgin Isles. But…the legends I’ve heard of Bluebeard’s Castle involve a slew of bloody no-longer-virgin wives strung up in a forbidden room. Let’s try another page.
I’ve always wanted to go to England. I find the English language so romantic, mostly because I understand it. Two lovers embrace beside an industrial thoroughfare and a recently fired cannon! There, in the distance, another tower renowned for the murder of wives.
Let’s look up a place I’m familiar with. Henriette and I spent our early years in Paris:

Café de Flore, on the Left Bank, has been favorite of Picasso and of Jean-Paul Sartre.
Place Pigalle is center for night life and cabarets of the more bohemian sort.
Surrealism began at Café de Flore as well. It is a movement I am particularly fond of as it liberated my head, allowing me to replace it with strange objects (when I want to blend in with the bohemian sort, I wear red harem pants as a head). Ah Paris! A place to see and be seen. Henriette and I felt our souls excised by the cutlery at this gazing feast; if I went back I fear my scrapbook would regress to ghostly, bland snapshots, an empty odalisque’s un-experience of supposedly important non-events.
This could be a very fine place to go as there do not appear to be so many people. I like beautiful scenes and the company of artists, especially when they notice that I am also one. Look at these beautiful scenes:
And yet, I don’t like the right-hand picture so much. It resembles the first violent scene in my movie which initiated my triumphant retreat into the obelisk.
An odalisque is lucky to have an obelisk of her own. If I left, could I find my way back?
Photographs from Around the World in 1,000 Pictures
Edited by A. Milton Runyon and Vilma F. Bergane,
(c) 1954, Doubleday & Company
staghorn post
I have decided to send a secret message to Henriette. Carrier pigeon post was not an option as she is incarcerated in a basement, which I assume has no windows. Therefore, I am using staghorn post. This service, with their wide net-work of inconspicuous agents, will be able to return any messages to me even though only a single agent (who lives here in the obelisk) knows of my actual location.
I have placed a misleading return address in case my message is intercepted. Just let those authorities try to find me on the open seas where I will never, never go again!!
More as the situation develops.
(Read about my imprisoned friend, Henriette, here.)
–The Odalisque
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