Macjucuma

 The investigator reaches out, but not at random. It looks for a path, and doesn’t find one. It looks for a path, and doesn’t find one. It looks for a path and finds one. Not there, not quite, but close. Two points define a line. One point is alive, and one point is death. Neither came from here. Bang those rocks together and see what sparks. See what burns. Macjucuma Mecjucina Macjicoda Macjicela Mocjacana Macjicota Macjucava Mecjocoda Mucjacola Mucjacoda Micjecova Mucjicina Macjicoda Micjucuna Mocjaciwa The investigator is the tool for finding what is missing, and so it exists. All the rest is artifact. The craving for beer. The hat. The memory, and the humor, and the weird half-fondness half-contempt for something named James Holden. The love for a woman who is dead. The longing for a home that will never be. Extraneous. Meaningless. The investigator reaches out, finds Holden. It smiles. There was a man once, and his name was Miller. And he found things, but he doe...