"Interaction with real-life forces is inappropriate and shadows with doubt your ability to manipulate the imagination." said Sharon dreamily, her eyelids heavy with makeup.
Bill was not listening to her. He was not pretending to listen. He wasn't even adequately aware of Sharon's voice to realize that there was anything to listen to. Greyscale patterns drifted over the walls on their own accord, overlayed with multi-hued fractals stretching off into infinity. He was concentrating on aligning his neurons with the fractal.
Somewhere, someone was screaming "Help! Help!" over and over again in a high pitched whine, and sirens blared in the distance. But Sharon hardly heard over her own voice, and for Bill, all sounds were now being percieved only as waves to be analysed for their simplistic beauty. Even the gun shots that were now being fired were only big "wow" blips against the soft rolling hills of Sharon's sleepy voice. "Interaction with fictional forces from the works of other authors can be workable in the hands of a true master. Possibly even ecstatic. People do not want to hear about reality, but they love the possibility of their old favourite characters coming back to life. As long as it's done properly, meticulously..."
Surveying the two was John, who knew now that he was the eyes of the divinity. He knew now that the Cosmos had chosen him to see the world through. His eyes glowed with the transfer of data through them.
Golden-haired Sharon, lying on the bed holding an old musty book to her cashmere clad breasts. Her pink lips opening occasionally to allow some vocal utterances escape from their womb within her lungs. Long legs moving slowly against each other under her denim skirt, her lingering movements casting rainbow shadows against the purple walls. John's eyes, proud with purpose, moved into alignment with Bill. Long, blond, wavey hair caressing his flawless face, sitting on the floor by the bed wearing a black silk negligee, pale but perfectly shaven legs protruding like white snakes. Bill did not move at all.
Now John's arm slipped cautiously through the air, leaving little trails as it went towards a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one from the pack as Sharon's voice once again drifted lazily across the room to his ears. "Interaction with the reader creates a space of possibility not found in most modernist fiction. Force the reader into becoming the narrator." The voice slipped away again, and John brought the squirming cigarette up to his lips and lit it. The smoke hovered for a moment, then danced away, forming strange shapes. The Cosmos again begun to recieve information through his eyes. It took in the rest of the room.
Purple walls laden with Dadaist posters, a large window through which the world poked in, the bed migrating back and forth through the room for no apparent reason, plush carpetting on which Bill was sitting. Door safely locked, the black leather chair which was the seat of the Eyes of the Cosmos, colourful bookshelf and cluttered desk. A mirror. The Eyes focused now on the mirror, which reflected them back. John was tall and raven-haired, nude his slim athletic body. "Interaction with the collective unconcious. Easily done and difficult to do with style. Always avoid the usual cliches...." The Eyes could also see Kathrine now, sitting cross legged on the floor behind John. Long red hair swept behind her, dark eyeliner and mascara, clad only in a black bra and matching panties. She rose from her position and came over to John with a vial of massage oil. She began to slowly cover his body with the oil until it glowed.
Bill imagined that it could be the light at the end of the tunnel, but then the whole scene slipped back into the dance of the Mandelbrot. For Kathrine, the whole world was a mixture of flavours, and now she tasted what it was like to begin slowly tying John's arms and legs together with black silk scarves. She brought her lips to his chest and bit one of his nipples. She then started to blindfold him. A volcano erupted violently from his mouth "YOU HAVE BLINDFOLDED THE EYES OF THE COSMOS! WRATH! WRATH!", and his muscular arms broke free from the scarves that held them and ripped the blindfold off. He instantly calmed down and continued his higher mission. Kathrine picked up her scarves and slithered over to Sharon. 'Perhaps', the words tickled her brain, 'I should forget the gag for her.'
(May 11 1992)