Marlowe Harmoni and The Tests of Rage

So, jay ef cee, where to start with Marlowe Harmoni. How about with a few facts:

1. Marlowe is someone I know from back on the Jung.
2. Marlowe once tried to kill me. You read that right.
3. Marlowe is a friend of Avan’s and has been friends with Horace and Angie at different times in our lives.

This dream involves Avan, so let’s go over that part some before we properly dreamwalk into it.

Avan moved to the Far Shores awhile ago—like maybe ten years ago? I’m not sure. I go out there and visit them, and—at some point—Marlowe moved out there, too, cunt that they are.

Angie was living there, too, so I don’t know if she introduced them? I most certainly did not. But when I went out there and saw they were hanging out together, I didn’t pretend like I didn’t know Marlowe or anything. Nor did I attack them on sight, which is maybe what I should have done? No, no, I know. Nonviolence and all that. I’ve learned my lesson. Hope so, anyway. This dream makes me wonder about the durability of my devotion.

So we take a step into the dreamstream and appear there, in the lobby of the Hotel Dumas—said like the writer—and Avan is there. Marlowe, too, the piece of shit.

We eat in the hotel restaurant—The Jack-Bull—and in there, we are joined by Annsilon and Morgoreet. Morgoreet is the local sheriff, but don’t worry about that right now. We’ll get to that another time. Annsilon is a secretist, like Avan and I. Marlowe is a piece of shit barrister from the Galactic Homeworld—like me—who grew up on the Jungle Planet—like me—then moved to the Far Shores to make big money, piece of shit that they are. Morgoreet is shorter than I am by a good bit. Avan and Annsilon are about half a head shorter than I am, and Marlowe is, like, a head and a half taller than I am. I don’t know how relevant any of that is. Just some details for you.

So we are sitting at the table and doing the sort of shit you do in a restaurant? Like looking at menus. Sipping water—with or without lemon; your choice, babe. Snacking on bread or chips or whatever. Morgoreet is talking about the local election she just won by the skin of her nuts, and Annsilon and Avan are discussing some conference they’re going to soon.

Marlowe makes several comments about things Annsilon says that sound super fucking controlling.

I am, as I’ve stated, not the only secretist at the table. Avan is, too, as is Annsilon herself. But neither of them seem to react to it. So I’m not sure why that is, and sip my water, give you a look.

We order, then eat. Then everyone has to go to the bathroom, so we do.

I come back, and Morgoreet and Annsilon are there, talking and being kind of giggly and girly.

They ask where Avan is, and I say they are still in the bathroom.

“They take long enough,” Annsilon says.

“Well sometimes people stand and sometimes they sit, Annie,” I say.

“Oh,” she says, realizing that what I’m telling her is that Avan is taking a shit in there. She smiles and leans in close to me. “So we were talking, and we feel like there’s major vibe being thrown in the conversation.”

“When?” I ask.

“Just now,” Annie says. “When we eating.”

“By who?” I ask.

“Well, definitely at Avan and I, but kind of a lot,” she says.

“I dunno,” I say, “but Marlowe was definitely laying down toxic controlling statements.”

Annie looks uncomfortable when I say that.

I follow her eyeline and see that Marlowe has walked up behind me cos of fucking course they have.

So—without turning around—I ask Marlowe directly: “What do you think, Marlowe? Think there was any controlling vibe in the convo?”

Marlowe doesn’t say anything.

Avan comes back and they walk with Annie and Morgoreet toward the door to the lobby, leaving us with Marlowe.

“You know I almost killed you once,” Marlowe says.

I narrow my eyes, look up at them in their stupid face. “Yes, I know. I was there, remember?”

“No, I mean a different time. You were sleeping, and I crept into your bedroom with a knife.”

“Nice try,” I say. “But Ford already told that one.”

“What I’m trying to say is that I didn’t do it, Tee. I could have, but I didn’t.”

I want to push them over, and I imagine pushing them, but don’t.

I say, “I wanna fucking kill you right now, Marlowe. But I’m not going to. I don’t want to kill anyone or anything, even you.”

Marlowe looks at me, then walks after our friends.

You might ask if I’m all right.

“I’m fine,” I say. “It’s just a test of rage and peace. There will be many more with this motherfucker right here.”