A Yellow Brick Road


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Again here we are, my dear friend; you are here again, consciously deciphering these strange symbols that create letters, then words, sentences and, as the last part, paragraphs and texts ... There is another "Again" here, which is that I have found again at a breaking point where I do not know where you begin and where I end. Indeed, I find myself now listening Chicane's music (a British DJ that, I know by a very good authority that you do not know,) as my mind processes each key I should press ahead, only to narrate what I'm doing, and so I can not know what runs through your head as you read what I write.

There will be two, and only two stories which I offer below ... These protagonists have something in common that links their stories by a minimal detail, a singular one: the constant search for sadistic madness — and even devilish —, a madness that, in that way, plans a redemption before some mysterious eyes ... eyes that neither they know.

That's how I like to ramble ... that's how I like to tell stories. I, as a writer — in approval — I know only one absolute truth. That absolute truth lies in the existence of the characters I create (or inspired from what others created), and what I do with their existences, making that the only difference between what they live and what they dream, can be measured with their own actions and consequences, or ... maybe not?

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The Circle of Lost Causes

The transformation of Harley Frances Q., and the interrogatory of Jason Peter T.

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Would you like us to start, Mr. Jason?

I'm not married and I don't have children; your report well has to say it.

Okay, Jason, do we start?

As you like, Gordon, but ... is necessary the voice recorder?

Anything could happen to you in prison, Jason; and if you don't get to testify before the grand jury ...

I got it ... You could have said simply: "Security Reasons". For that matter, I think it should work better as a manifesto of my willingness to testify now, because in the court can happen that I change the sequence of the events completely.

With a recorded and written statement, how can you believe that the jury will believe you if you distort the facts at the last minute?

... You are a man of law, Mr. Gordon. I don't. I played with minds that you wouldn't believe, and so I've done that they surrender offerings like if I was their god ... Are you the one who believes that some feebleminded will have me with more care?
»If I were you, I wouldn't believe very easily the claims that can pass as "half truths" that you're recording with your latest model phone ... in terms of the most empirical and incredible details ... I would enjoy the trip, because it's more likely that in those moments I'm being completely honest.
»If I were you, I would do the right questions. I learned from the best, Sergeant Gordon, to be very persuasive and insightful.

You have a polygraph connected ... Good luck.

... I am a magenta unicorn, bee winged, with a pompous heart as a birthmark on my left buttock, and I sleep ninety-two hours a day.

... Okay, I grant you that one. But you're not the only one who knows how to fool a polygraph ... you will need much more to fool me.

I am sure of that. We could be sitting here about ... five minutes, so I could learn all your secrets with just hearing you sigh, and thereby deceive you in the same vulgar way in which I tricked this stupid polygraph. Let me tell you that nothing, nothing! escapes me ...
»But we're not here for that, Mr. Gordon ..., are we?

No, of course not.

... I like your smile, Sergeant, reminds me my past life.

How about if we use your past life to begin the interview and/or statement?

Sounds perfect to me.

Okay ... So, tell me, Jason Todd, how did you met Miss Quinzel?

Harley ... to talk about her, we need to go about six years in the past, the day I ended with the life of the very acclaimed Dark Knight: Bruce Wayne.
»I think it's not necessary to go into details, Sergeant Gordon, everyone knew how it happened ...

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I'm still working, pal!

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