Collaborative Fiction: The Little Poor Lady Who Lived In A Man's Shoe, page 3
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reply posted on 10-11-2003 @ 06:16 PM by MaskedAvatar
Rob, however, was not seeing Dr Phil.

He was referred instead to a Dr Zachary P Burns, after he was observed outside his house, wandering around in distress, looking for a six inch woman named Billy, a cat named Fugley and half a mouse, calling after them, crawling around on all fours, much to the concern of his neighbors.

It was Constable Mick Davidson that found Rob in this state. Rob gave a rundown of his story, and Davidson knew there was a problem when Rob started to talk about marrying Candice from the Police Station.

For there never was, never had been, a police woman at the Station called Candice. It was a projection of something that wasn't quite working right for Rob.

"Relax" said Burns to Rob. "Take off your coat, have a seat."

"Tell me about the little woman and the policewoman."

Burns observed a six inch kewpie doll poking out of Rob's shirt pocket, and as Rob's story unfolded, he scratched his beard and wrote copious notes on a clipboard, to which was appended a small photograph of Dr Laura Schlassinger.

Burns understood. The little woman was Rob's childhood. The talking mouse was his decay with age. Candice the policewoman was a projection of his need for a compassionate partner who would occasionally chain him up and whip him with authority. The cat was real. Georgio the pizza parlor man was real but not dead.

Burns dismissed any form of post traumatic stress disorder, and focused on the self-mutilating behavior the Police had first observed when Rob reported he had been mugged, but it was found he was seen two blocks away repeatedly bashing his head against a wall in the fashion of a Between The Sheets smilie.

Typical manifestation of a delusional disorder, but Burns had to explore further to see how long it had been going on and what had really triggered it, before he could diagnose and treat.

He decided to role play, and to have Rob talk to the fantasy woman Candice as if she was in the room.

Meanwhile, Giant Billy continued her journey returning to earth, and she now wondered as she reached the outer layers of the ionosphere, what was going to prevent her from burning up on re-entry.



[Edited on 10-11-2003 by MaskedAvatar]


reply posted on 10-11-2003 @ 09:59 PM by ilovepizza
Billy had enough, and took off the virtual reality glasses. All of it had seemed so real to her. Billy has had a lot more fantasies then most people because she was small and stuck in a shoe, so she did not get to do much. Billy had always wanted to be big. Not just normal size but giant big. With the little money she made from the movie she was in she bought her self a virtual reality machine. With it she could live out all of her fantasies.

Once Billy had awaken from when she had passed out she needed something to help her deal with the death of Out. So Billy decided to put the virtual reality glasses on. Since Billy had never really had a father that cared about her Rob was the closest thing. Billy suffered from the Elektra complex, and Rob was the closest thing she had to a father. That is why she wanted virtual Rob to love her.

Billy came to realize that no matter how many fantasies she fufilled in virtual reality, she would still have to deal with the hard ships of reality. Billy was not in denial any more of Out's death, but was into the anger stage. She felt like she had hit rock bottom.

Billy heard rain hitting the roof and was always cheered up with the sound of rain. She was happy for a little while, untill she felt drops of water hitting her. There was a leak in the closet and rain drops were falling in the shoe. For a normal size person a drop of water would not be a problem, but for Billy it was. Billy fell to the ground with each drop of water that hit her. Now she was really at rock bottom.


reply posted on 12-11-2003 @ 04:43 PM by MaskedAvatar
Two police cars arrived at Dr Burns' office, one for Rob and one for Mick.

Rob sat sedated and cuffed in the back seat of one, while he observed Mick's head being lowered as he was placed in the rear of the other.

The headline on the magazine in the front seat of the car Rob was in pertained to some gossip about Candice Bergen. Rob had always liked her.

As he looked outside, Rob saw three tiny little people scurrying out of Dr Burns' office, running down the sidewalk and turning into the alleyway. Nobody else batted an eyelid at them. Maybe the little people were taking over, and had selected this time to come out of their shoes everywhere. Rob could not be certain.

On the way back to the cells at the police station, the officers had playing a Chemical Bros song, vocals by Bernie Sumner...


Sometimes I feel that I'm misunderstood,
The river's running deep right through my blood.
Your naked body's lying on the ground,
You always get me up when I'm down.
And it always seems we're running out of time.
We're out of control.
Out of control.
Out of control.
It may be that I'm just scared of losing you,
or maybe it's the things you make me do.
It seems to me we both should hang around,
and raise the population of this town.
And it always seems we're running out of time.
We're out of control.
Out of control..
Out of control.
But it doesn't mean we're too far down the line.
We're out of control,
out of control,
We're out of control.
Out of control.

The record player keeps on turning round,
It could be stuck, or maybe it's a sound.
All this time I should be there with you,
or maybe I'm just searching for the truth,
or maybe I'm just searching for the truth.
And it always seems we're running out of time.
We're out of control,
out of Control,
we're out of control.
Out of control
But it doesn't mean we're too far down the line.
We're out of control,
out of Control,
We're out of control.

It could be that I'm losing my touch,
or maybe you think my mustache is too much.
Satellite is out of control,
But you and I are brothers of this sun.
And you and I will come down from the cold.
Out of control.
Out of control.
We're out of control,
Out of Control,
We're out of control.
Out of control.
Out of control.
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A Poem: Theta
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