Cystic Detective Update #7
The best podcasts I’ve heard lately, Ross Douthat & D.W. Pasulka have a confusing conversation about UFOs, & I succumb to the grip of the Octopus
Find other Cystic Detective Updates in the Table of Discontents.
Skittering though the streets and alleyways like a cockroach, Cystic Detective tries not to bump into garbage cans or step in puddles. He avoids the latter out of superstition, the former due to open sores.
Scanning the bowels of a nondescript slum for a telephone, Cystic Detective is eager to warn emergency services in Columbus, Ohio of a strip mall about to be alchemically changed into a platinum cube. The viscera told him as much! Unfortunately, whether due to grime or his protuberances—which passersby believe to be boils—no one meets his eye contact. He understands, it’s a thankless job.
But if no one is alerted, he thinks, what happens to the people inside? A chef? A nail tech? A computer repairman?
Unbeknownst to Cystic Detective, those sorry souls have been reduced to platinum atoms for three weeks. He sometimes forgets that the psychic viscera is comprised of echoes—future, past, and anywhere in between.
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