Visions from the Drowned Scrapbook: The Folly of Youth

[jack_babalon]

All my shit's been down in the basement for damn near two and half years now. The contents of the old Witch House loaded up in the corners of a dank cellar, boxed little phantoms stacked in a stone literal subconscious mind. Imagine the Raiders of the Lost Ark ending, the wharehouse of the impossible only on a faux bohemian budget and a sharp reek of mold. Then the floods came and destroyed about a good third of it. Furniture fucked. Possessions trashed. Shelves smashed because there was no space for them anywhere. A lot lost, but nothing y'all ain't heard from me before...

... but I did find something interesting. A treasure of immense personal value, previously written off as collateral damage frin the last move, miraculously recovered.

My old scrap book. The one I stopped keeping right around the time I began this journal in fact. The flood waters did some damage, but not so bad that the pages couldn't be recovered. Had Teddy Bear do me a solid and let me use his lady love's scanner and upload them into my virtual memory-grimorie to preserve them from future ravages.

I love the 21st century sometimes.

Anyway, here now flow glimpses of my ghosts thought long banished...



Shore Leave: Mykonosos Greece, '91





DragonCon: Terminus, Ga '97.



NAS-1: Sigonella Sicily, '91



Crime's Apartment: Fort Lauderdale, Fl., '90



Greyhound Station: Jacksonville, Fl., '93