The 2nd Intallment of the Cumcumber Man., c/o : Grant Oddoye.

**3
Right at their most intimate moment a swarthy little man approached. One might presume that his eccentric eyes and bucktoothed grin might make him ugly, but they did not. They only added to his presence and mystique. His disheveled hair flowed, quite neatly, around the contours of his face, and with a slight stoop and hunch, he began his discourse. “Does the good Sir or Lady require any hot beverages?” he bellowed – the tone of his voice akin to that of a mating bullfrog.
“No” the lady replied, the sternness in her voice quite evident and eminently commanding “but I would like a cucumber sandwich.”
“No cucumber here m’ lady I’m afraid, but we do have some lovely smoked sausage sandwiches, perhaps a little smoked salmon if the lady would care for something a bit lighter on the palate and…”
“Enough!” the mullet laden gentleman proclaimed, slamming his palm down vigorously on the banister “there will be no talk of smoked sausage in this house!”
“Very good Sir” the swarthy butler replied, staggering slightly from his obvious inebriation “the good Sir hath spoken” and with that he about turned and waddled on his merry way, quite unaware of the gentleman’s state of agitation.
A small can of hairspray was now dancing around the distinguished gentleman’s head, furnishing his quasi-autonomous Jeri curl with lashings of nourishing goodness, and the lady was now fidgeting with her handbag strap. She was trying to hide her heightened state of arousal; it was the rampant sheen of it. That magnificent mane of stately prowess and honor engulfed her – it overwhelmed her. She could hold onto her confession no longer as she stated “I know now why they call you El Cucumber Grande…” to be continued
**4
The cool moonlight now shone into the half-lit room, illuminating the figures and paraphernalia alike – it’s presence at once cold and distant, full of knowledge. The gentleman proceeded to step back from the banister and to slump into a nearby armchair, causing the surrounding candles to flicker and the floorboards to reverberate. The lady slowly stirred her drink, the ice cubes tinkling gently against the glass. She moved gracefully towards the window and stopped suddenly, gazing out into the expansive night sky.
“I wonder where it all began, and where it all ends” she said softly, her tone now eerie and wistful “but I don’t suppose we’ll ever know”, and with that she stared into the darkness, her dress brushing lightly against the windowsill. “A man once told me that what lies beyond the stars is locked deep within our imagination, if only we care to look…”
“I too met that man” a muted voice echoed from the armchair “but he not only told me… he showed me.”
The candles flickered out. A great coldness descended upon the room, and time seemed to stand still. The man’s eyes closed shut, and as they did his mind became both open and translucent – the membrane between his consciousness and the vast unknown removed. A dark tunnel through the fabric of space and time curved right and forwards, following his mind’s eye, decorated with mystical colors and a spider’s web of light. The subtle music of the universe played to guide his path through his dreams, all the while the destination undetermined and unimportant. He could make out the woman’s voice faintly in the distance, and a spiral staircase pointing downwards and backwards. He followed his vision onwards in perpetual motion, his current dimension simultaneously contracting and expanding. A pulsating neutron star caught his attention, and the rhythm of it’s radiation awoke him.
“I know now what I must do” he stated “I must go back” to be continued