Miami: Dark-Cerulean (Pt.2)

A Story by Abishai100

Sequel to Part-1 finds a darkened newlywed/prince still on eco-heist/terrorism misadventure, seeking theosophy-escape and maybe finding even charcoal.

Part 2 to the first one. Happy Memorial Day weekend,

DISCLAIMER: This work of fiction offers no commercial/explicit ties to any person(s)/body and is cast as purely a 'personal' expression for social art (for 'open' views/translations/commentary).

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THIEF: Doubted you'd be my sidekick for elongated ellipse, Earth man?

AMLAN: My wife's dead; you play God; I'm just angel-man until release now!

THIEF: You so sad about loss of Danica-darling, oh.

AMLAN: Look, I'm at least relieved it was kill and not rape, evil one.

THIEF: We go back East in my 'borrowed' auto for focus and I complete mission.

AMLAN: Great (Selfie-like for leviathan/uncertainty).

Amlan felt like a lost-soul now, still en-route to Miami for an unglorious return to the East Coast post-misadventure with his masked hellraiser 'companion' ('Thief') who still didn't disclose his ID or spirit to an Earth prince whose wife he'd already bloody-murdered for his (overall?) eco-terrorism highwaymen road-map 'image' of darkness. Amlan didn't want to return to Miami Beach now, but he remembered that promise he made to darling-Danica after their kidnap from a bank that would have (otherwise?) kicked-off their 'fantastic' American Dream (Facebook-like). Follow along, friends (Selfie-like!).

MANAGER: You want us to think this man is a kidnap-victim from an eco-corp?

THIEF: He's my road hostage and the FBI is fast-tracking me, so I'm on stopwatch!

MANAGER: Well, this is something for me, sir; I've read of your exploits (Cyber).

THIEF: This is my 20th and maybe last stop, fool...so be sharp and escort Amlan.

MANAGER: That's some Coronavirus mask, sir (damn).

THIEF: Stay cool, manager and my mission for Hell won't be your hurdle to angels.

MANAGER: Thanx (Facebook-like!).

'Thief' took Amlan on his continued misadventure for eco-terrorism in his 'borrowed' (dark-black) auto; but all our protagonist darkened prince of Earth-realm (Amlan) could think-back on was that American Dream of Cerulean he (once) shared with darling-Danica, now lost to the heavens (damn).

AMLAN: When I get back to Miami, I'm writing a novel thing about all, evil one.

THIEF: Make me a celebrity...eco-vigilance is dead for conscience, Earth man.

AMLAN: You don't even think of Danica, do you, evil man?

THIEF: Look, all I am is what I go after...think of my Crusade as Kryptonite, fool.

AMLAN: Evil's thorn...but you'll shrink before I do (in your borrowed auto).
THIEF: Right (Selfie-like).

Friends, Interpol was now hunting Amlan, our darkened prince of Miami Beach (wow). However, the sideshow main-idea of this part of Amlan's road-trek concerned a hitcher 'Thief' picked-up en-route back to the Orange-State, a diner lady of older-years who'd been pensive about our American Homeland magazine-reads of eco-consciousness 'stuff' of the Ego.

SHELBYE (Hitcher): You shall return to the Beach, without Interpol-jars, hero!

AMLAN: You'll become Thief's new escort I thinks, Shelbye my dear (damn).

SHELBYE: Life's hard, Amlan my friend; good for war-image (magazines, eco, etc.).

AMLAN: You're a hard-broad, Shelbye (wow).
SHELBYE: Let's just say I'm trained for pick-up by a fake idealist ('Thief').
AMLAN: All's I wanted on our Blue Planet was waffles-for-downs, Shelbye.
SHELBYE: Facebook-like (for the gods).