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Frequencies

“If you wish to understand the universe, think in terms of energy, frequency, and vibration.” – Anonymous

1. Tuning In

The sound of static fades in, as is made when someone changes the channel on their television set: And in other news, some pretty bold acquisitions have emerged from far-left supporters regarding a statement that this year’s congressman may or may not have issued about a man with severe physical disabilities. We would just like to confirm now, that these reports are false. The truth of the matter is, that congressman Ronald Stump suffers from a behavioral tick in which he gets incredibly excitable when he speaks, and uses flamboyant hand gestures as a result. Hopefully, this blatant assault of allegations doesn’t affect this years hopeful’s chances of re-election.

“Honey, could you please turn that noise off,” Charlotte Tesla asked of her husband as she gracefully turned the page of the book she was reading from beneath the covers of their bed. “You know I don’t like to watch the news just before bed. It’s so full of negativity, and it just doesn’t resonate well with me love,” she continued in a sweet matter of factually speaking tone as she looked up at him from beneath her thin rectangular framed glasses.

“Sure thing dear,” her husband Thomas Tesla replied after an elongated pause, his attention directed to the reporter on the television screen before his with a blank, drone-like stare. Thomas went on this way until he was quite sure that he could feel the beams of his wife’s glare beat down his neck, at which point he turned the large plasma screen television off. “Sorry, you know how I like to keep up with these things. For work,” he trailed off in an unsuccessful attempt to redeem himself.

Thomas was the radio operator at the local news station located in the good ol’ fog city of San Fransisco. So, his reasoning for watching the news was about as honest an account as when his wife said that she wasn’t unsatisfied with his place of occupation because she loved him due to the fact that he was a survivalist. They had met after Thomas had made a small fortune in stocks, which he lost in the same venture. Having experience as an COMSEC Repairer for the Marines during the days of Nam’, it was easy for him to get his job, but, it was also the same reason that Charlotte had to abandon her love for art, and take up residency as an in-home caregiver with her daughter, attending to the needs of an elderly woman with Alzheimer’s. It was the same reason that the two had been as distant, as well, the space that separated them in their California King sized bed, or as was apparent in the books in their bookshelves that read, Getting Divorced:What You Need to Know.

So what are you reading dear,” Thomas asked of his wife, turning to face his beautiful Russian wife of fifteen years, longing to rekindle the flame between the two of them. Having no college experience of his own, he was enamored by his wife’s intelligence. She had grown up in a family of ample means, her father having graduated top of his class, and later going on to create engines for NASA. As a result, Charlotte went on to get a good education, receiving degrees in both Psychology and Art from Emory University, so the couple made from quite the pair of opposites, coming from two completely different ends of the spectrum, but somehow, they made it work, even if it might have been a little dysfunctional at times.

“Oh, I’m just re-reading, Plato’s, Republic,” she replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which matched her stoic personality. But, that’s how she viewed things, if he hadn’t have been so lackadaisical, as she would have put it out of her love for using big words to make herself feel superior, then he would have know as much just by reading the cover; if he only cared as much.

“Really, what’s it about,” Thomas inquired further, a boyish grin spread across his face out of admiration for his significant others smart’s. He propped his head up on his shoulder as he did so, as to better hear her. It also gave him a better view of the beauty of wife, which he held in second esteem to her wits. He never grew tired of casting his gaze upon her short bouncy blonde ringlets which suited her thin amazonian figure, and ample bust well.

“Well, essentially, it has to do with the philosopher Plato’s view on society and whether or not Socrates defends the concept of justice well or not. Right now, I’m in the middle of his famous allegory of the cave, in which he compares the true philosopher to a prisoner, shackled in a cave, who, concerned with human perception, uses philosophical reasoning to free himself, and make his way out of the cave,” she finished with a low humph to herself, putting her book on the nightstand besides her, knowing that he reading for the night had come to an end.

“Oh, you don’t say,” he said in response, which was immediately followed with an energetic high-spirited laugh. “Well, what do you say we explore this idea further, and you let me poke around your cave,” he asked jokingly, with another burst of laughter, rolling closer to Charlotte as he did so.
“Thomas, really? I swear, sometimes you can be so barbaric. Not tonight, I’m just not in the mood. Maybe some other night, we can plan it out or something, and try to make an intimate little event out of it. Perhaps get some candles and what not to create for a better climate,” she answered, turning over to face him as she did so. As she observed her short Serbian-Latino amour, she couldn’t help but think to herself what a comical sight the two of them must make to some outside fly on-the-wall onlooker, what when considering their matching royal purple night robes. Thomas’s cute little curly mustache, and dark jet-black hair protruding from beneath his night dress, revealing his tan complexion must have made the sight all the more ridiculous, especially when compared to her own physical appearance. She had to admit to herself however, that she had once pined for his fiery and passionate disposition, and she wondered to herself what has caused this to change.

Silence filled their master bedroom as the two love-crossed strangers fixated on one another. It was only as Thomas became aware of the slight humming coming from below them, causing the pergo floorboards beneath them to gently vibrate, that Thomas dissected the night’s sweet tranquility as he probed his wife, asking, “What is that, you feel that right?

“That, it’s probably just Aurora. You know how she gets when the moonlight unveils itself to the world, with all that creative energy of hers.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. She get’s that from you ya know, God knows that I don’t have a creative bone in my body.”

“I know Thomas. Now, I think it’s time for bed. We’ve both got work in the mourning, and it’s late.” With that, Charlotte turned from Thomas, and switched the light-switch perpendicular to the bed downwards, and in a current as quick as the speed of light, darkness consumed the room.

As Thomas and his wife drifted asleep, there remained a force in the house that was still very much awake, the source of which could be found amidst a sound wave that omitted itself from below them in their daughter’s room. Its place of origin was a small rectangular speaker that casts green and purple electric bolt shaped lights across the walls of Aurora’s small ten by ten room.

“I am gross and perverted. I’m obsessed and deranged. I have existed for years, but very little has changed. I’m the tool of the government, and industry too. For I am destined to rule and regulate you. I may be vile and pernicious, but you can’t look away. I make you think that I’m delicious with the stuff that I say. I’m the best that you can get, have you guessed me yet? I’m the slime oozing out of your TV set,” the voice of Frank Zappa broadcasted itself from out of Aurora’s laptop, hooked conveniently to the speakers. Aurora had only just stumbled across the Zappa’s 1973 The Slime, but in her attempt to experiment with her music selection, she did feel as if accurately depicted her political views, what with all the hype that had been recently surrounding the arena as of late. In being more political, it was also her means of rebelling, and protesting someone she disliked as a person, and a system that she felt was corrupt. But,  she was one of those that considered themselves as a spiritualist. Perhaps she was just naive, or maybe she really was more in tune with her higher self, either way, it’s what she believed, and so it was very real to her.

What is it that I want, Aurora thought to herself, her focus centered on the canvas before her, which she had been slaving over her for hours. “An intellectual lover who could take me away from this place would be fan-fucking-tastic,” she said into the empty room, as if in a dual conversation with herself.

Her many animals, which consisted of a blue-nosed pit-bull, a dozen snakes, two bunnies, and a hamster, all watched with curious expressions etched across their faces as she meticulously labored over her masterpiece, as if with each swift stroke of her paintbrush, they were watching some mad genius hard at work. It was actually quite a brilliant piece, as she was intending on manifesting what she painted before her into her own life, the painting itself was just a medium to get there.

Sprawled across her quaint little twin-sized bed in nothing more than her favorite pair of baby-blue lingerie, her long curly dyed red hair cascaded down her pale backside, just barely concealing her fragile figure. Her ample bosom pressed firmly against the mattress as she put the finishing touches on her creation; a detailed, very realistic portrait of a young woman similar to her own accord, kissing a tall man with jet-black locks, with the Golden Gate Bridge, and the city behind them, all underneath a starry night. The woman had on a magnificent purple dress on, which went well with her pearl necklace, and vibrant red hair.  As for the man, he was finely dressed, in formal attire, and a university cap and gown.

“There we go all finished,” she let out as she sat herself upright in her bed, raising the finished product above her head as she did so, fantasizing over the piece that she had envisioned.

With a dreamy smile, she rose from the bed and strolled to the other side of the room, where located just adjacent to her dresser, her other many painting sat neatly stacked, one on-top of the other; the most previous of which was a vibrant illustration of a spotted grayish colored dog, playfully chasing its tail on a beach.

“What do you think Cyberus,” Aurora jokingly asked her dog, as if she was asking for his approval. The dog raised it’s head for a brief second from where it was curled up next to her door. With a low yawn, the dog gave a slight not of the head, before resuming his guard at the door.

“I think so too my spotted one,” she replied as she crossed her way over just next to where Cyberus lay. She then made a quick swipe at the light switch besides the door, and only as the lights went of, did Aurora take off what remained of her clothing; the smooth, gentle beams of the moon’s incandescent light being the only the left to clothe the more delicate nature of her body.

Aurora then made her way over to the television screen atop her dresser, and flicked it on, as to have some distant white noise in the background to better lull herself to sleep. Another smile edged it’s way across her face, as her vibrant green eyes delighted in the sight that the first show that the tube displayed was that of The Titanic, with Leonardo DiCaprio. She took it as a sign that she was pushing ever closer to what her heart yearned for.

With that, Aurora retreated back to her bed once more, where after joyfully hopping into it’s cozy confines, she wrapped herself snug beneath the covers of her warm black and gold comforter, joining the rest of her family in slumber.

In this way, the Tesla family had all come to the same resting frequency; yes, they were undeniably on different channels, or programs to say, but the same frequency nonetheless. Each member, earnestly pursuing the highest vibration, which is love, through different means, for love conquers all, and all energies.

Thomas and his wife on the one hand, pursued this by employing themselves through various outlets, tuning in to the ways of the world, in hopes that that would salvage their marriage, not thinking, to focus themselves inward, on each other.

Aurora on the other hand, did so through the facilitation of her passions, and in embracing the insatiable urges that her heart so desired, while arguably going against the ways of the world. Little did she know,  that despite how innocent, pure, and authentic her intentions where in fulfilling these means, that they would ultimately lead to her death.

A.M.W 

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