LOST HIGHWAY by Funstein Zac

Author:Funstein, Zac [Funstein, Zac]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2015-01-15T05:00:00+00:00

Presbyterian Cesio Marino in theatrical breeches was one of those who seemed like somebody who had stumbled on some source of perpetual- youth. Those that tried to archive him better watch out because although at the age when asking how old Cesio was was fairly obvious by the decay-factor.Still something seemed to state this was someone young-in-spirit.

Cesio was another one well into pollutants-they seemed to be coming out of the closet rapidly. Everybody seemed to want to test the deceased, the Volvo or the scene for pollutants but contaminants didn’t always come up with the goodies.

“I want deliverance from toxic/hazardous waste,” intoned Salvo Boni who was a stalwart of the ground-crew- whatever that was.

There seemed to be a core of men/women who although not highflyers who shot across the sky-comets that dazzled they were in fact -bricks upon which one could rely. Since none of the former seemed to be dazzling with their brilliance there was little else that could be done. Another one such as these Eligio Sagese-something of a narcissus or dandy who knew Salvo relatively well tried to persuade him that pollutant testing the BC accident site might not necessarily be a bad thing or a waste of resources. Boni listened respectfully. The trouble was Eligio who was something of a smoothie was adept at making anything convincing. Sagese could sell you a fake cubist drawing by Picasso or your own funeral it was said. Eventually Salvo capitulated more to get rid of him than being convinced of his reasoning.

“I knew you’d see sense eventually Boni. Cesio is well into making polystyrene igloos at the moment to test his theories that the North Pole is excellent at concealing air particles.”

“Yeh I’ve come across that somewhere too-that there is a build up of zinc there or something.”

The cynics who knew Marino were always sure there was a get-rich-quick scheme somewhere designed to get him on the ranks of the nouveau riche, none-the-less a meeting in such cramped surroundings followed. It was a small consolation prize to have to pay for getting the scam on just what happened out there.

“I’m pleased you’ve come to see us,” mumbled Marino who appeared as a personable character in a padded jacket. “We were on a train to Bangkok, aboard the Thailand Express, hitting the stops along the map when it came to us that my previous stopover flight in Antarctica was what would make my unbearable problem more manageable.”

“A lot of travellers like Antarctica despite the cold.”

“There is less disloyalty there than in the more built-up continents but perhaps that isn’t fair.I’m not a seasoned jet-setter I haven’t compiled any compendium yet of my adventures.”

The annals of the successful frontiersman-Mr. John Doe anonymous observer of the human-condition-must give way to more expedient matters.

“Now you’re going to demand how this seemingly disparate problem of our charge can be solved-with this seemingly unrelated erudition.”

There was a practical side to this like a mechanic going over something that had broken down. Although neither knew it both were junior ROTC before enrolling in a different program so had a lot of similarities.

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