(intro note: downloaded from Akashic records etc..)
(note to skip: this article might better belong on the Survivor site, but then we wouldn’t refer to it being the basis for the graphic novel because in the world it just ‘is’ and we’re not referring to it having been authored by you. So it’s fine to put on this site as well.)
As part of my repentance for having been a con man I realize I need to confess. I need to admit that I’m not always in control. A predatory con thinks he is always in control. For a reformed, and still reforming, con it is necessary for me to admit that yes, I had a problem, still have a problem. Okay, I admit, I was a control freak, but didn’t realize it. I thought I was simply smart. So, I’m going to confess a deep dark secret. I’ll tell you about one of my dearly beloved ones, she of my dreams–my TV:
Dear Survivor Disciple,
Thank you for your kind condolences in regards to the passing of my beloved one, my dearest TV. Without your kind, overwhelming support I don’t know what I would have done. The long evenings pass much gentler while reading your letters, especially the Prime Time hours between 8-11 PM Monday-Friday.
I must admit that even with your letters, sometimes during Prime Time I still have trouble feeling comfortable staying in my home. Those hours between 8-11 PM, Monday-Friday, are filled with so many sweet memories of her, my TV. Sometimes I just have to leave the house.
The other night, about 8:23 PM, I was out walking. I passed a house with a large picture window. I just made a casual sideways glance, but God forgive, that was enough.
Inside I saw a man and his TV enjoying a quiet evening at home. She was quite a lovely sight, a Sony, with a massive 36-inch screen. They, that is the man and the Sony, looked happy. Whenever he laughed, she acknowledged his laughter by showing another TV program scene.
I crept closer to the window, hiding in the shrubs. Such love and devotion is rare to see. I wanted to learn from watching this affectionate couple. Fortunately for me the evening was warm, and out of consideration for her temperature regulation the man had left a window slightly open.
I leaned between the houses’ aluminum siding and a Western Red Cedar, and looked inside. She was quite the devoted mate. She never looked away from him, even though see saw me. I wasn’t really trying to flirt, but I couldn’t help it. Still, she acted as though she didn’t notice me.
Then it happened. She played a beer commercial, signaling to him that he needed to go to the kitchen. I felt a cold sweat come over me—I was falling in love with her. As he left the room, she changed her gaze toward me.
Okay, I told myself, don’t be presumptuous. Maybe this doesn’t mean anything. Maybe she really wanted him to have a beer. Or maybe she wanted him out of the room.
I took a long look at her. She quickly changed scenes. Oh, my, no, I thought. Let’s try that again. I looked again. Instantly she again changed scenes. Yes, she knows I’m looking at her. Wait a minute, though. Maybe she wanted him to hear different scenes even if he couldn’t see them.
Then I saw it on the table next to the open window; her remote control. He must have set it there before he went into the kitchen. Or, had she tricked him into placing the remote there. I had only one way to tell.
I reached through the open window. What was that! That sound, had it been the refrigerator closing? Her ploy had moved him into the kitchen, but he won’t stay forever. Now was the time.
I reached for the table and clutched the remote. I felt the cold plastic against my palm. I couldn’t turn back now. Good lord, I hadn’t felt that reassuring touch of plastic in so long.
More in a trance that thinking, I shyly aimed the remote at her, as if one like me had any right to be so intimate with her. I pressed the channel changer, and waited. Quickly, she changed channels, while keeping her gaze fixed on me. Yes, oh my, she wanted me!
I could hear his feet approaching the living room, and I didn’t want to get her in trouble. I grabbed the remote firmly and rapidly walked to the sidewalk, vanished in to the dark. Her remote warmed my hand.
Could this be true? Had I met my new love? I would have to go back the next night to know for sure. True love must be persistent. Like Romeo going to the balcony of his Juliet, I would go back.
Yours in the faith,