SIXTH SEQUEL

Kristin had a part time job as an idea exchanger at a plastics factory.

Presently she was developing a new design for their world bestselling series of totally transparent water containers.

She wanted to find the best shape of a fleur-de-lis, which would be moulded into the sides of five litre cans.

The flower was to be framed in an intricate and emblematic way in order to prolong interest.

In collaboration with a redblackwhitesmith she also made various plaques.

  They were to be mounted on the wall behind kitchen and bathroom faucets.

They all were decorated in order to celebrate water.

In addition she was one of those commissioned to envision a crest of humanity.

A crest for anyone to incorporate in shields and logotypes.

It was a beautiful day and she thought of retracing her forest path in a nearby international park.

Last year she had marked her way by tying red Great Wall silk ribbons around suitable trees.

She hoped that a visible pathway would evolve through usage.

When she arrived she discovered, to her delight, that the ribbons during the winter had aged into crimson nuances.







Along the path she created a game of hindrances.

She picked up a poster that had fallen by the wayside.


 
Be even cooler!
Let Hillary & Barack be the ruler;
together hand in hand
and lead us to the promised land.
Oops, I forgot about John McCain;
he should join and we shall all gain.

Now Obama did win
and wisely let the others in.
Trying to see everyone's view
must be the way to start anew.
This can be the right ground
to reach decisions that are sound.

Gloves and mittens fill the bag
that has an overwhelming tag:
For every cold hand
in every single land


Usually Kristin found circus posters.

She sometimes took them home, where she ironed out creases and taped tears.

She returned to her apartment.

  She changed into a nightgown and her black apron with the dwarfs and the harmonica.





She cooked two corn cobs and sat down to watch TV.

Then she went to sleep.

She awoke in the darkness of the night with an idea for the crest.

In the morning she made the idea into a sketch to start from.





Some time later it was Valentine's day.

She had already received an anonymous valentine.





An offering of
somewhat late or early valentines,
for drawing the necessary lines
between all you’s and me’s.
Take some, please!


She suspected that it was a gift from her reclusive next-door neighbour, Mr. Konstantin.

It was rumoured that he worked as an investigator of sorts.

For many years Kristin believed that she was secretly being monitored.

  For a benign purpose.

It was done either by some knowledgeable and resourceful persons or by other unknown forces.

They seemed to be waiting for her.

This feeling made her much more aware of behaviours and conversations.

She guessed that this was the reason for having this strange impression.

She remembered a song:

She looked at the wall.

Thousands of ancestors in me
are trying to raise me to see
what’s best for all descendants.

I’m now one of the attendants.

Some voices I hear more clearly;
the ones that talk to me dearly,
the ones who assist in every test
and never abandon this quest.

My heritage I should manage well.
Does it mean I must try to tell...


Her brother had painted the picture a long time ago.

Only recently did he write the text to go with it.

Kristin remembered that they had not yet decided about the boat.





She would try to reach him soon.