They sat at the bar, old and etched with a thousand stories, of the Hotel Fandango’s Millionaires Room (where the stars come to shine in Weezenhawk) last Tuesday. Frederick had brought his I-Ching and in a late night toss they saw it was time to head back to the pyramids.

They paid their tab and hopped a cab to JFK. Henry asks “What goes on in the temples at night?” “Ancient Egyptian burials and perhaps a sacrifice or two” replied Frederick, “You see Hathor, being the cow goddess, gave birth to Osiris the King. He was deemed as having the most desirable phallus in the palace. It was…””…diamond blue” George interupted, “a high erect prick for Isis’s thighs. It was like a monster bass swimming up the Nile in a hot eclipsed evening. You know, almost worth not being stoned, realizing clear eyes are the key”, “To what” Henry asks, Frederick says “Everything.”

Henry understood much less now then when they were at the bar and as they entered the airport he began to cry, wailing something like “There is not yet a word created to do you justice, you are sonic and beautiful. Please, let’s just go home.”

They calmed him down but he continued to mumble “There’s going to be a double suicide. George is going to die in a plane crash and I’m going to do the same so I can be with him. Don’t look at me that way, this is a tragedy.”, George says “you’re crazy man, we’ve got a plane to catch in twenty minutes” and went off to the bathroom.

Henry continued to mumble and cry. Frederick was silent for awhile, thinking the whole thing as relevant as Princess Diana dying or the fact the water spins clockwise south of the equator; something so arbitrary being so consistent. He took a last pull off his cigarette and turned to Henry, “Things ain’t what they used to be, moving in a kind of off hand dexterity from the millennium. We were in DC the first time you started with this shit and it still makes me think of the same two things; the sculpture you made out of ashtrays in Ferdonia that blocked Mrs. Whittlemeyer’s window and got the priest and rabbi after us…”

He was silent again, getting lost in the image. “well what’s the other thing Fred?”, “That somewhere Henry, a sphinx is laughing.”

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