<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<rss version="2.0"
	xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"
	xmlns:wfw="http://wellformedweb.org/CommentAPI/"
	xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/"
	xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom"
	xmlns:sy="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/syndication/"
	xmlns:slash="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/slash/"
	>

<channel>
	<title>Misterdoe&#039;s Fiction &#187; none</title>
	<atom:link href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com/tag/none/feed/" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml" />
	<link>http://fiction.misterdoe.com</link>
	<description>A place online for weird fiction and story ideas.</description>
	<lastBuildDate>Wed, 24 Feb 2010 06:38:37 +0000</lastBuildDate>
	<generator>http://wordpress.org/?v=2.8.6</generator>
	<language>en</language>
	<sy:updatePeriod>hourly</sy:updatePeriod>
	<sy:updateFrequency>1</sy:updateFrequency>
			<item>
		<title>Plane Crash (3/?) &#8212; Page 4</title>
		<link>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/08/22/plane-crash-3-page-4/</link>
		<comments>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/08/22/plane-crash-3-page-4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 22 Aug 2008 04:38:46 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Misterdoe</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Invisible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Paulette]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[inanimate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[intangible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[other]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tickle-monster]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[clothes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dress]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[floating]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jeans]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lingerie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[none]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Subreality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://misterdoe.wordpress.com/?p=504</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[&#8220;What do you mean, who am I really? I&#8217;m Paulette, just like you &#8212; did we go over this already?!&#8221; said Paulette2, taken by surprise by Paulette&#8217;s outburst. After a few moments of silence, while both seemed to be lost in thought, Paulette2 continued, &#8220;I think I know what&#8217;s bothering you. I may even have [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div>&#8220;What do you mean, who am I really? I&#8217;m Paulette, just like you &#8212; did we go over this already?!&#8221; said Paulette2, taken by surprise by Paulette&#8217;s outburst. After a few moments of silence, while both seemed to be lost in thought, Paulette2 continued, &#8220;I think I know what&#8217;s bothering you. I may even have a solution.&#8221;</div>
<p>&#8220;What?&#8221;</p>
<p>Paulette2 replied, &#8220;When you found Bryan here, in the restaurant, and all he did was look up and smile&#8230; that bothered you, didn&#8217;t it?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well&#8230; yeah,&#8221; Paulette admitted. &#8220;I was hoping for a lot more than a smile.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;And you kind of got it&#8230; well, OK, <em>I</em> got a lot more, but I think I understand your perspective. I might even be able to let you share the feeling.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Huh? How?!&#8221;</p>
<p>Paulette2 said, &#8220;Well, think about it. You&#8217;re me if I had gone back, or I&#8217;m you if you had stayed in Subreality. You came to a fork in the road and Subreality made it so you didn&#8217;t have to decide which way to go.&#8221;</p>
<p>With a chuckle, Paulette2 interjected, &#8220;I came to a fork in the road and took it, you mean.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Exactly,&#8221; Paulette 2 said with a laugh. &#8220;But I can fill you in. The question is, do you trust me? Do you <em>really</em> believe that we are basically the same person?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, I <em>want</em> to, because your explanation makes sense, but&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;If I really was someone else, would I be offering to fill you in, or would I be bragging about getting what should have gone to you? Or even trying to steal Bryan from you outright?&#8221;</p>
<p>Paulette sighed. &#8220;OK, I guess you&#8217;re right?&#8221; Then, more confidently, &#8220;All right, what&#8217;s the plan?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, in a place like Subreality there&#8217;s probably lots of ways to make it happen, but the only one that comes to my mind is&#8230; this.&#8221; And with that, Paulette2 draped her arms around Paulette and gently kissed her. Their tongues danced around each other briefly and then Paulette was overwhelmed with sensation. She opened her eyes and for a moment, thought she saw Bryan there, rather than Paulette2&#8230;</p>
<p>* * *</p>
<p>Fog. Vague awareness that something is supposed to happen somewhere soon&#8230;</p>
<p>&#8220;Earth to Paulette,&#8221; a familiar voice intoned. &#8220;Come in Paulette.&#8221; The fog slowly began to clear, leaving Paulette looking up into her own smiling face.</p>
<p>&#8220;Hey,&#8221; Paulette2 said. &#8220;If I hadn&#8217;t gone through the exact same thing I&#8217;d be kinda worried.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;<span>Wooow,</span>&#8221; Paulette said with a giggle. &#8220;How long was I out?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Remember where you are,&#8221; Paulette2 gently reminded her. &#8220;Time is very elastic here, at least compared with Out There.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, however long you&#8217;ve been here, you&#8217;ve been busy.&#8221; Paulette stood up, taking in her surroundings and reorienting herself. &#8220;Getting familiar with this place first of all, then setting up a restaurant&#8230;&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, I&#8217;ve done a lot of exploring,&#8221; Paulette2 started, &#8220;but I&#8217;m not as familiar with this place as you might think. Remember, even without Writers being as active as they used to, there&#8217;s plenty there that changes every day. All of Subreality outside this restaurant could have completely changed just since you came in. Plus&#8211;&#8221;</p>
<p>Paulette cut her off. &#8220;Why don&#8217;t you just say &#8216;Thank you&#8217; and accept the credit?&#8221; she asked, with a smile.</p>
<p>With a sigh, Paulette2 replied, &#8220;Yeah, you&#8217;re right, I <em>have</em> done a lot in a short time. Now, let&#8217;s you and me get back to the others before they think we forgot about them.&#8221;</p>
<p><a href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com">HOME</a></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/08/22/plane-crash-3-page-4/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Plane Crash (3/?) &#8212; page 2</title>
		<link>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/24/plane-crash-3-page-2/</link>
		<comments>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/24/plane-crash-3-page-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 24 Mar 2008 20:43:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Misterdoe</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Invisible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Paulette]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[inanimate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[intangible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[other]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tickle-monster]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[clothes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dress]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[floating]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jeans]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lingerie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[none]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Subreality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://misterdoe.wordpress.com/2008/03/21/plane-crash-3-page-2/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[“Depends on what you mean by ‘wearing,’” a familiar voice replied from across the table. Paulette looked up to see two outfits of clothing standing at the other side of the table, filled out to shapely feminine contours &#8212; one completely pink (unzipped hooded sweatshirt over a tube top, gloves, miniskirt, sheer leggings, sandals), and [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>“Depends on what you mean by ‘wearing,’” a familiar voice replied from across the table. Paulette looked up to see two outfits of clothing standing at the other side of the table, filled out to shapely feminine contours &#8212; one completely pink (unzipped hooded sweatshirt over a tube top, gloves, miniskirt, sheer leggings, sandals), and the other a baseball uniform, with batting gloves at the end of its sleeves. As the pink outfit waved one of its gloves, the voice continued, “I think we talked about this a bit earlier.”</p>
<p>“Oh, hi, Vik,” Paulette said. “I wondered where you had gone off to after you led me here.”</p>
<p>“Well, as soon as you stepped inside, my old friend Mary here caught my attention, and we got to talking…”</p>
<p>“…and you know how that goes, when two old friends get to talking,” said a cheerful voice from the baseball uniform. “I’m… well, they call me Mary Prankster. Vik and I go way back, and I’m also one of the other Paulette’s partners here in the Unseen Scene. And I’m responsible for some of the <em>*ahem* <strong>animation</strong></em> you see around here. Let me demonstrate.” The uniform and the pink outfit turned toward one another and their gloves grasped one another, left-right and left-right. The two pairs of gloves floated free of their respective outfits until they were at least two feet higher than they had been when they first grasped, and then each grasping pair drifted back to the owner of the left glove. As each left glove came to rest at the end of its original sleeve, it placed its mismatched opposite at the end of the outfit’s right sleeve, so that both outfits wound up with a mismatched pink-and-white pair.</p>
<p>Mary’s voice continued, “Vik and I were actually right here when Bryan asked about getting a waitress’s attention, so I sent a pair of gloves in here to take your order, which should be ready any minute now. Then we filled up these clothes, and here we are.”</p>
<p>“That’s pretty cool,” Paulette said, a bit of awe in her voice. “I wouldn’t mind being able to do something like that.” Then, turning to Paulette2, she continued, “And I knew you had to have some help getting this place up and running so well in such a short time.”</p>
<p>“Well, hon,” Paulette2 said, “that’s another one of those strange things about this place. Time doesn’t work here like it does at home. I’ve actually been here a lot longer than however much time has passed Out There.”</p>
<p>&#8220;Huh?&#8221; Bryan interjected. &#8220;You mean I haven&#8217;t actually been here for two days?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well, you&#8217;ve been here for two days, Subreal time. That could translate to two days Out There, or it could be five seconds &#8212; it&#8217;s totally up to you to decide, when you go Back.&#8221;</p>
<p>Bryan turned to Paulette2. &#8220;Could you stop doing that?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Doing what?&#8221; Paulette2 replied, with some puzzlement.</p>
<p>Wiggling his fingers to make air quotes, Bryan said, &#8220;Speaking in capital letters. You&#8217;ve already said &#8216;muses,&#8217; &#8216;writers,&#8217; &#8217;subrealizens,&#8217; &#8217;subreal,&#8217; and &#8216;out there&#8217; like they were titles or something.&#8221;</p>
<p>With air quotes of her own, Paulette chimed in. &#8220;Well, aren&#8217;t you &#8216;doing&#8217; the &#8217;same&#8217; &#8216;thing&#8217;?&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Not at all,&#8221; Bryan said. &#8220;I&#8217;m just trying to find out&#8211;&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Well,&#8221; Paulette2 interjected, &#8220;you won&#8217;t learn anything by arguing with me &#8212; um, I mean, with <em>her</em>. Anyway, the Capital Letters&#8221; &#8212; she couldn&#8217;t help smirking &#8212; &#8220;mean that I&#8217;m talking specifically about what those words mean here.&#8221;</p>
<p>After a pause to let her words sink in, she continued. &#8220;I mean a writer is just somebody who puts pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard, and writes something. But a Writer&#8221; &#8212; another pause &#8212; &#8220;is specifically someone who writes creatively, who writes superhero fanfiction or something related for Subreality. They actually have powers here&#8230; kind of. Muses are even more specific, because anyone can be someone else&#8217;s muse to inspire them to creativity, but Subreal Muses inspire Subreal Writers.&#8221;</p>
<p>Bryan replied, &#8220;So you mean, for instace, that Sharon Stone&#8217;s character in that movie, <em>The Muse</em>, doesn&#8217;t count?&#8221;</p>
<p>Before Paulette2 could answer, a voice replied, &#8220;<em>Excuse me</em>?&#8221; Everyone turned towards the source of the voice when there was a sudden flash of light. There stood Sharon Stone, or her exact double, wearing a gold silk blouse and tight jeans.</p>
<p>Once the woman had everyone&#8217;s attention, she spoke. &#8220;<em>Ahem</em> &#8212; one two three, four five, six seven eight nine &#8212; oh yeah, and ten. Thank you <em>very</em> much.&#8221; And with that she promptly disappeared in another flash of light, leaving everyone dumbfounded.</p>
<p>&#8220;OK, that wasn&#8217;t <em>exactly</em> what I meant, but I guess it answers the question,&#8221; Bryan deadpanned.</p>
<p>After a couple more moments baskets of fresh baked biscuits floated up to the table, followed by water pitchers, glasses, silverware, and various condiments. A set of silverware set itself by each of the diners, while condiments and additional baskets of bread placed themselves at various spots around the table.</p>
<p>Bryan took an appreciative whiff. &#8220;Mmm, those biscuits smell good,&#8221; he said, and immediately a biscuit floated up out of the basket and deposited itself on his plate, followed by two pats of butter.</p>
<p>&#8220;Uh, thank you?&#8221; Bryan said, unsure of which of his invisible hostesses were responsible for the service.</p>
<p>&#8220;Thank <em>who</em>?&#8221; said Mary Prankster. &#8220;Think about where you are, Bryan. Here, at least in this restaurant, no one really has to <em>do</em> anything for something to happen.&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Hmm&#8230; so if I wanted my roll buttered &#8211;&#8221; Before Bryan could continue, a pat of butter unwrapped itself as the knife floated over and cut the biscuit open. The pat of butter floated over and smeared itself on the steaming biscuit, after which the knife spread the melting butter over both halves of the biscuit.</p>
<p>Smiling, Bryan said, &#8220;Now that&#8217;s what I call <em>service</em>!&#8221;</p>
<p><strong><a href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/07/29/plane-crash-3-page-3/">Page 3</a> </p>
<p><a href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com/">HOME</a></strong></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/24/plane-crash-3-page-2/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>Plane Crash (3/?)</title>
		<link>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/23/plane-crash-3/</link>
		<comments>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/23/plane-crash-3/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 23 Mar 2008 18:40:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Misterdoe</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Invisible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Paulette]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Uncategorized]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[inanimate]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[intangible]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[mine]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[other]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[tickle-monster]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[clothes]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[dress]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[floating]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[jeans]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[lingerie]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[none]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Subreality]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://misterdoe.wordpress.com/2008/03/19/plane-crash-3/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Once they had passed the offending thicket, the source of the voices became plainly evident&#8230;
Bryan was seated at a table, laughing and enjoying the company of&#8230; Paulette?!
It took Paulette a moment, after doing a double take, to deal with the rush of thoughts that came at her with the sight of this obvious impostor. Who [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em><span style="font-size:85%;">Once they had passed the offending thicket, the source of the voices became plainly evident&#8230;<br />
Bryan was seated at a table, laughing and enjoying the company of&#8230; Paulette?!</span></em></p>
<p>It took Paulette a moment, after doing a double take, to deal with the rush of thoughts that came at her with the sight of this obvious impostor. Who was this woman pretending to be her, and <em>why didn’t Bryan know she was an impostor</em>? Or had he come to Subreality, to “take a break” as he put it, to find (or <em>make</em>) himself <em>another</em> Paulette?! She had to know.</p>
<p>Approaching their table, she pointed an accusing finger at the other woman and demanded, “Bryan, who is this? And what are you doing here with her instead of with me?”</p>
<p>“Oh, hi, Paulette,” Bryan replied casually, as if this sort of thing happened every day. He didn’t get to say anything else.</p>
<p>“Never mind ‘hi Paulette,’ <em>who is this woman</em>?!”</p>
<p>“Who do I look like, Paulette?” she replied with a smile.</p>
<p>Paulette let out an exasperated sigh. “Well, obviously, you look like me, but you can&#8217;t be me, because… well, because <em>I’m</em> me, and I’m over <em>here</em>.”</p>
<p>The seated woman chuckled. “Well, I can’t really argue with that logic. I mean, you’re definitely <em>you</em>, and yeah, you’re over <em>there</em>, but… well, do you remember anything special about the first time you came to Subreality? Anything unusual, maybe?”</p>
<p>&#8220;Don&#8217;t try to change the subject&#8211;!&#8221;</p>
<p>&#8220;Paulette,&#8221; the woman cut in calmly, &#8220;I&#8217;m <em>not </em>changing the subject, I&#8217;m answering your question. What do you remember about that first trip here to Subreality?&#8221;</p>
<p>Paulette took a few deep breaths to calm herself down before continuing. &#8220;You must mean the arguing James Bonds.” At the same time she wondered how this woman knew that Paulette had happened upon a street-corner argument among men who looked just like Sean Connery, Roger Moore, George Lazenby, Timothy Dalton, and Pierce Brosnan, all the actors who had played James Bond in the movies up until that time.</p>
<p>“Exactly. Do you remember who they actually turned out to be?”</p>
<p>“Well… the folks at the Subreality Café said that they weren’t the actors who played James Bond, they all <em>were</em> James Bond, only different ones.” Paulette paused a moment, then added, &#8220;And now that you’ve reminded me, that kind of explains something I saw on the way here. There were two guys arguing that looked like Daniel Craig and David Niven, the leads from the two <em>Casino Royale</em> movies. Probably the same argument, too.”</p>
<p>“Mm-hmm,” the seated woman said. “Now hold onto that idea but fast forward to here and now.”</p>
<p>Paulette looked off into the distance for a bit, frowning, then turned back to the other woman. “Are you trying to tell me that you’re supposed to be <em>me</em>?”</p>
<p>“I’m not <em>trying</em> to tell you that I’m <em>supposed</em> to be <em>anyone</em>,” the other woman gently corrected. “You and I are <em>both</em> Paulette.” After a pause, she continued. “Do you remember the end of your first visit, when you were just about to leave? What was on your mind?”</p>
<p>“I remember wishing that I could stay here permanently, or at least not have to go back right away. Then this weird woozy feeling came over me, and then I was back home. I felt woozy when I first got here, so I thought it was it was just part of the transfer.”</p>
<p>Picking up where Paulette stopped, the other woman said, “And when the woozy feeling passed, I wondered why I was still here instead of home. When I asked around, people told me that that apparently I wanted to stay here badly enough to make it happen. But they said that in all likelihood I was also back at home, with no idea that… well, that I was still here at the same time. Were they right?”</p>
<p>“I had no clue,” Paulette said, shaking her head. Then, turning to Bryan, she said, “Did you know? Was this what you had in mind when you said you needed a break?”</p>
<p>He held his hands up in a gesture of surrender before replying. “This was all new to me, too. I had no idea I’d find another Paulette here. All I knew was that when I saw a restaurant called The Unseen Scene, I just had to check it out. I had no idea that <em>you</em>— well, that <em>she</em>” &#8212; indicating the woman seated next to him &#8212; “was the owner.”</p>
<p>“How did you go about setting this place up, anyway?” Paulette asked her. “I mean, I don’t know a thing about running a restaurant. Or any kind of business, for that matter.”</p>
<p>The woman smiled as she replied, “I just decided I wanted to open my own place, and the knowledge I needed just kind of came to me.”</p>
<p>Paulette looked at Bryan, who just shook his head and shrugged, looking as puzzled as she did. Looking back at the other Paulette, she said, “I don’t understand. How could the knowledge just ‘come to you’?”</p>
<p>“That’s one of the great things about this place. Subreality, I mean. Here, Muses and even Writers have a kind of power that most Subrealizens don’t have available to them. Once I realized that I didn’t have to figure out how to get home, because somehow I was already there, I was free to do what I wanted here. It’s not even like I had to figure out what you would do in my place, because I am you. So, with apparently all the free time in the world, I spent some time at the Subreality Café, but it kind of freaked me out that I couldn’t control my invisibility there. No matter what I tried to do, I stayed visible. I didn’t like being stuck visible; after all, I’m supposed to be Bryan’s invisible muse. I came to realize that it was only in the café that I was stuck, so I picked out a spot and put up my own place, and here it is.”</p>
<p>“Well, OK,” Paulette said, thinking over Paulette2’s words, “but what made you decide to open a restaurant, instead of something else?”</p>
<p>“I just wanted someplace of my own, where I could be invisible or not at my choice, that’s all. Listen, we’ve been talking for awhile, and I’m hungry. Are you two ready to eat?”</p>
<p>“I’m starved,” Bryan replied. “How do we get a waitress’s attention?”</p>
<p>“Already done,” Paulette2 said, motioning towards the potted trees, where a pair of gloves hovered towards their table, about waist high, holding a pen in one hand and an order pad in the other.</p>
<p>As all three ordered, Paulette couldn’t take her eyes off the hovering gloves, writing each order as it was given. After everyone had ordered, the gloves floated away. Paulette then turned to Paulette2 and said, “I notice that our… order-taker never said a word. Was there someone actually wearing those gloves?”</p>
<p><a href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/24/plane-crash-3-page-2/"><strong>Page 2</a></p>
<p><a href="http://fiction.misterdoe.com">HOME</strong></a></p>
]]></content:encoded>
			<wfw:commentRss>http://fiction.misterdoe.com/2008/03/23/plane-crash-3/feed/</wfw:commentRss>
		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>
