It’s like I said—I’m not authorized to tell you anything. I will, however, tell you what I am authorized to tell you, if you accept it as truth or whatever you call it, my story. Agreed? Very well. What are your conditions? You can’t be serious. Even if I could answer that question—which I can’t—I would not tell the likes of you. Despite what all those others have told you the past few days, there are a handful of beings who could give you the inside scoop on the Listmaker, but they are all, if not more, elusive like the Listmaker. How do you catch one? Oh, please, what a pipe dream. Catching is not the right psychological framework. What you need is not a physical plan to CATCH one of these beings. The trick, supposedly, is to psychologically manipulate one to reveal itself. But there are too few who exist who could even hope to glean inside the mind of a Bromide much less penetrate and manipulate that mind. Nevertheless, I did hear about this one time in this one place. You wouldn’t be interested in that, would you? Didn’t think so.
At the age of five, So Jeong began to wither. Destined to live the long, eternal life of a Seer, So Jeong, instead, became ravaged by the fear of her responsibility, for with each hair upon her head, So Jeong delivered the gift of great fortune to whomever could reach the top of the middle most peak where the three peaks meet. Despite the journey being long and arduous, many prevailed and claimed their strand of locked luck.
As dawn rose to the heights of afternoon atop the mountainous range of the celestial valley where the Knowers retreat, So Jeong whispered a plea to the Singing Leaves. They heard her cry and sent her wish through the breeze through the heavens, beyond the purple moat surrounding the glass castle where the Baubles laughed in delight as they encapsulated the message into lightweight bubbles that could escape through the ether of reality to the realm of the Listmaker’s Ranch, and upon that wind the message caught the air under the wing of a Ladybug, not just any old ladybug but rather, The Ladybug who served as the Listmaker’s messenger. Of course, Ladybug heard So Jeong’s cries and so, flew quickly to the Listmaker’s Ranch via the Green Lightpath opened by the Baubles just as the light flicked on at High Noon.
Buzzing hurriedly through the Listmaker’s open kitchen window, through the study, up the stairs, around the landing, through the sitting room, Ladybug sees the Listmaker, frantically scratching pen on long strips of torn off rolls of receipt paper scattered across a large wooden desk. Ladybug flutters to the Listmaker’s desk and lands squarely on the barrel end of the pen in the Listmaker’s hand. Catching its breath, Ladybug motions a series of signs. Raising the pen to slowly bring Ladybug closer to his face, the Listmaker understands the message. “Thank you,” the Listmaker thanks. Ladybug gives a polite, straight-legged, one arm draped in front, while the other tucks toward the back, little heel-rocking, chin-gliding bow. And then it stands quickly at attention and shrugs as if to ask, “What are you going to do?” The Listmaker looks sternly back at Ladybug, “That’s none of your concern. You haven’t even seen her since her birth.” Ladybug defiantly crosses its arms, and then makes a series of jovial gestures as if saying, “Sheesh, calm down. I know. I just thought I’d ask.” The Listmaker almost lets out a small chuckle, “Go attend to the funeral in the garden.”
What do you mean, WHAT? That’s the Listmaker Story I know. If there’s something else you want to know, I’m not sure if I’ll be of any help. There were rumors a few … uh … I guess … centuries now, about a man, like a human man, who arrived at the Listmaker’s Ranch and, you know how rumors are. Well, that Earthman died. No one knows for sure what happened, obviously, but something definitely happened back then. Of course, I can’t tell you anything about that, but that’s because it mostly just doesn’t matter. Okay, thanks for stopping by. Bye now!
via WRTGPRAC’s Daily Writing Prompt No. 036