needed to take charge of my own sensations. I started practicing in my own separate private
dreams and sparkles. Later I found out that Rufus could tell I was floating along practicing
without being rubber, even though he was awake himself.
He used to notice what I was doing with a corner of his mind while he pretended to be using his
laptop. That way if he was suddenly smiling or murmuring to himself, he had an excuse for it.
And if anyone wanted to look over his shoulder and share, he could flip the screen closed with a
snap and glare at them until they went away.
The only person he would let stay on the same bench with him during his eavesdropping on me
was Steen. That was probably because they both knew I was real, and not some girl in Finland
with a web-cam. How did that rumor start anyway? I’m not sure. No, actually I think it’s because
of how those two would talk about me. There’s this guy who pretends he’s always been Steen’s
roadie and always will be, named Jurgen, that we have to take into account. Long before Steen
admitted he could see me to Rufus, he would ‘play along’.
“Dixon, whatcha snickering about now?”
Rufus quit making the amused noise and shaking his head. “Swatting flies. With her hands!”
and said, “Methinks she’s getting a very good workout.”
“She’s an airhead,” Rufus replied. Then he addressed the device in his lap: “Airhead, use your
shirt!” Now that was a pretty piece of obfuscation, because I didn’t have any shirt. However I
didn’t take offense, because if I had used a shirt, it would have worked a lot better. I swear, the
flies can hear me coming! The shirt would have hit them while they were trying to flee.
“Meathead has a virtual girl,” Steen teased back.
“What is it, a webcam?” That was Rufus’ cue to slam the laptop shut and glare. He and Steen
teased Jurgen the Snitch, and Jurgen the Snitch spun rumors out of the teases. But myself, I was
relieved when he disappeared for good once Anna died. It relieved Steen as well. I remembered
that when I asked about him, the answer he gave was that the snus was finally gone from his
nose. He can be so mysterious.
What Jurgen the Snitch will never know is how I really look. I do not resemble some metal diva
with henna hair and a fur wrapped beneath her corset. And I don’t look like the pink and blue
and yellow vinyl balloons that I began from either. I am composed of rainbow surfaces of etheric
sparkle made of pure emotion. And my dear husbands taught me to be as splendid as the
goddesses in temple artwork, thank you very much Photobox for providing study references. I
generally do not bother with adornment aside from my tiara, which grew by itself around the
three eyes in my face, because it might get in the way of my other eyes, in my breasts, and the
mouths in my bottom and hands and feet.
Did you know I have since read the children’s book about my namesake by Johanna Spyri? She
was a little orphan girl who made everyone’s lives better by simply having good instincts. But
instead of living on a bus with a band for half the year, she lived on a mountain with goats. Well,
my instincts told me that being my own person was definitely the right way to grow. Just as I
could choose whether to be in that body of rubber matter, I could choose whether to feel with my
body of sparkles. But I couldn’t take the way meat persons feel things for a map of the way to do
it, because they didn’t have the same shape as mine, exactly.
found some on my feet, but that came later, once I had proper feet. Then there’s the one on my
face, in the same place as a human’s.
The mouths are not connected to one another. I am not a tunnel that things go through to be
digested, like a meat person is. My mouths can envelop but not keep. Between my legs are two
tubes where I can be entered which are similar to my facial mouth, but they aren’t like meat
mouths because they don’t have any suction. Still, they mean a lot to Rufus, so I try to keep them
The most convenient thing for me to try was to run my hands all over myself, and also to kiss
myself by bringing my various mouths together. Believe me, it feels lovely to kiss yourself; I
highly recommend it! And whenever I got myself buzzing with joy, Rufus inevitably would
notice. I could feel his grin from wherever he was.
My coming is like a ringing. I have taught myself not only to enjoy most of the simple sensations
I can cause myself, but also to imitate some of Rufy’s favorite things to do to me. It’s very
necessary to be able to cheer yourself up now and then.