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56: Heaven on 11 May 14, 2014

Posted by The Typist in A Fiction, The Narrative, The Typist, Toulouse Street.

Jimi is fixed on Channel 13. Davis paces behind him muttering, “if they only had a horn. ” “Quiet, Miles. Have a taste of this. Listen. This is what we could have done if we’d only had Time.”

“Time, gentleman. Choir and harp practice in fifteen minutes,” an angel reminds them.

“Fuck you and your white-ass cracker choir,” Miles said. “Tell the Big Man the Spheres are in here.” Miles plugs the Pyle and Polks into the TV and cranks it until the clouds dissolve  and ranks of angels are left fluttring, wondering what exactly is happening.

The Big Man man walks in and plops on the couch next to Jimi. “Pass that shit over here.” Miles and Gabriel play their muted horns, trading licks with the Joel Harrison.

The Big Man takes a hellacious hit, expanding to galatic diameters and lets it out slowly, a celestial tempest. “You know that’s why I brought you here” the Big Man says.”I want them all to tempt the Devil and aim for heaven.”

“Shut up,” Miles says, “and listen.”  


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