Electra A


Electra’s new set was delivered just in time for our trip to DC and the Sylph Center. From the outside it was a shipping trunk, designed to go anywhere ship, train or car could reach. A recessed panel covered the various jacks for video and audio feeds from inside.

Inside, it was a scale model of the first house we’d owned. I’d made it as functional as possible. The water worked in all the sinks, showers, toilets and bathtubs. The icebox kept beverages chilled though I wouldn’t trust it too far with raw meats.

The (to her) big screen TV functioned, if she wanted to show things during an interview in the front room, like Mindy had shown the tape of Gitarzan.

The loft was a conversation pit with several sylph scrolls and a scrolls reader. And the back bedroom was fully functional, for any time she wanted to sleep there. There were beds and closets for three, since I now owned three sylphs.

Right now she was doing her initial walk through, touching things with a look of awe that made me glad I’d put in the effort.

She came down the stairs towards the front of the house. I watched my laptop’s view through one of the tiny, hidden cameras. “Nude descending a staircase,” I said quietly.

Of course, I was only three feet away from the new set so she heard me clearly. The image on the screen stopped on the next-to-last step, one foot in the air. “I’m fully dressed, Conrad,” she said to where she thought the camera was.

“Okay,” I shrugged. “PRUDE descending a staircase.” She flipped me off and continued down the stairs. “Rude descending,” I muttered.

In the living room, she spun happily. The art was miniatures of what we’d bought that first year, except for an original portrait of Electra drawn by Kerri.

She waved at the front window. “So, what are we going to do with the green screen?”

For a reply, I turned on the big-screen TV and showed her the camera view from the TV’s corner. She turned to see herself, standing before a window showing the Snake River Canyon… From the scenic overlook under the bridge, where I used to take her.

She smiled and clapped, then ran to the side window. “Already thought of that,” I said. All the windows in the house where synchronized, showing views to match the front window, as if it were propped precariously on that rail.

“We’ve got the Boise River, too,” I said, selecting that picture set. And continued on through the parking lot of Springwater High School, the talking pit of GUA’s New York set, a potato field near Springwater, an empty elevator, an airport terminal gate area, and the Idaho Penitentiary cemetery.

“You have the weirdest sense of humor,” she told me.

“I have twenty other slots when you decide what else to shoot.”

“Bring the camera to the Sylph Center,” she said.

“Already packed,” I promised. She came to the front door. I picked her up and held her near my face.

“So, we’re really doing this,” she said quietly.

“Ten years working for this, and you sound surprised.” I pet her hair, my fingertip following it down her back and across her derriere.

“Well, maybe not surprised,” she mused, leaning into my touch. “But it’s suddenly, you know, REAL.”

“I do know,” I assured her. “So, you like the set? You can take any of your guests to any room and have the interview. Any room but the garage.”

“OH! I didn’t look in the garage! What’s in the garage?”

“That’s Hair’s studio and Costume’s sewing room.” I lifted the door up so she could see from my hand.

“Okay, first thing we do, now that we own them, we reregister Hair and Costume with real names,” she said. Her tone said she would stand for no bullshit on this issue.

“Already filled out the forms,” I said.

“Ooh! What did they pick?” she asked.

“What makes you think I let THEM pick?” I asked.

“You want to see me naked ever again,” she told me. “Therefore, you did.”

“Yeah, well, Hair wants to be named Cher. Had a crush on her hair styles for the last twenty years.”

Electra frowned. “He doesn’t really look like a Cher….”

“I was going to name him Hank, as in a hank of hair, but he’s set on being Cher.”

“Okay,” she said slowly. “Um, what would you have named Costume?”

“I was thinking Godiva. Because she likes to be nude AND she can eat her weight in chocolate at the slightest opportunity. Which has the additional pun of a costumer who goes naked.”

“Uh huh. One day, you’ll learn what a pun really is.” She sighed. “And what did she pick?”

I laughed. “Ghirardelli.”



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Index

100. Annie A

102. Kerri A