NanoContemplations

He liked the house. He was almost surprised how much he liked the house. It had been nothing more than a whim that had brought him from LA to Australia, well, that and curiosity to see what his lesser counterparts were up to, why so many of them found the thought of the Glen attractive enough to uproot themselves and move such a distance.

He sat down on the third step from the top of his spiral staircase, not really seeing the vast modern area that served as a living room. His thoughts were on the Glen itself. How rather odd it was that so many of his fellows should gather like this. A whole little community was growing so rapidly one would suspect the liberal use of manure as fertilizer.

Manure. The word brought the General to mind. Maximus tended to carry a bit of the stuff about on his boots. Sid wrinkled his nose in disgust at the uncleanliness of the Roman's ways. The man was completely uncouth. He did dress well, though, if only from time totime. Sid was rather fond of the look of the Commander of the Armies of the North, especially the wolf-topped, rusty wool cape. He'd never really gotten to wear a cape himself but he knew he'd like it should circumstances ever prove favorable.

Rising, he descended the blue glass steps and walked out onto his flat lawn. Nothing was there save the grass itself, no flowers, no shrubbery, no walkways. Just the lawn spreading itself to the edges of the trees. There were hills not far beyond and he knew that Maximus had settled on the far side of the nearest ridge. Perhaps he should see for himself what the General's abode looked like?

He decided to walk. Beneath his house lay a giant garage-like area with an entrance so cleverly-concealed into the structure of the upper level of the home that no one but he himself even knew how to locate it. Here Sid kept a rather amazing array of vehicles, each and every one of them specially built to his specifications. But today he felt like walking. He didn't tire like his counterparts so easily did and his strength and energy knew no bounds. Yet, still, he took his time, thinking, observing, as he walked up the long slope ofthe ridge.

At the top he sat down on a fallen log and stared for a long while at the rust-colored English house nestled in its bower of flowers. There was Joimus in that ubiquitous light yellow of hers, planting yet another plant. The woman had no botanical restraint at all. In just the short while she and Maximus had been in the Glen, she'd already destroyed the clean lines of lawn around the house, making it look now as though it had been plopped down in a giant bowl of confetti. One shuddered at the thought of what the place would look like after it had been subjected to her terrible taste for several years.

Ah, there he was! Maximus was sitting astride a large white horse atop a different hill. Did the man think he was Napoleon being immortalized in oil paint? The pose was just too, too...perfect. No man should look like that. It just wasn't...real. Sid grinned. He himself, of course, was reality perfected. He watched as Maximus rode down the hill then came out of the stables to greet his wife. There was some interchange over a yellow rose. How very treacly. Such cloying sentimentality was mind boggling.

Still...Maximus did have the woman and from the way he was looking at her, he intended to have her in every sense of the word. That turned Sid's mind to the women who were accompanying his counterparts to this little hamlet. He didn't know many of them. Who among them might be worthy of his attentions?