Anyway, a sabbatical was in order for Spanno, so he journeyed as far westward as possible without falling into the sea. En route, he cracked a book LeVira had given him at departure: A self-help book from the wittingly helpless — another irony yet to be perceived. He tossed the book aside.
Spanno rolled in to Lago Plateado, where a brisa suave was already acting as restorative.
Ginia Lupo met him at the villa with a lukewarm greeting. Her plaid skirt and knee socks reminded him of the gang at St. Jude’s, albeit without their amor a la vida.
As they sat in the courtyard Ginia droned on about mundane office dramas without reciprocating any conversational niceties. Spanno found himself looking at an avocado tree, the lot of its fruit on the ground, overripe and ignored.
Ginia insisted on showing the local sights — Figfirth Park, the Tikiti Lounge — places he was already familiar with, but he didn’t complain. It seemed like an exercise in killing time to her.
So when enough time was killed Pipo Spanno simply left without fanfare. He didn’t see the trip as a waste though — just getting out of Dodge was the whole point.
During the return trek he picked up LeVira’s self-help book. He read quite a bit before realising he could come up with a better jacket blurb:
This almanac of artifice will condescendingly empower you to channel the ancient might of shaman-soldiers through prettified platitudes and aetheric hand-waving! Don’t let Dunning-Kruger metaphysics fetter your grandeur’s due! Effete affirmations and warmed-over psychoquackery will entrust you with the Answer to Everything!
Prepare yourself for...
The Explainening
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