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    A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy
    A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy
    A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy
    Ebook91 pages1 hour

    A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy

    By Dean Moriarty

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    Up in the rafters where the shadows danced their merry dance and could be likened to souls communing and interlinking and merging, the sound of the roof could be heard groaning under all the weight and as more snow fell the groaning became more pronounced until eyes began to glance upwards in concern.
    The landlord was unconcerned and carried on passing out beer over the bar, the roof had survived a hundred winter snows so one more was not to be worried about.
    “Awaken me from the dead so I may join the living,” said the voice that no one took any notice of; the ancestors were gone now and were to be ignored when they called to come back.
    “I cannae weep no more,” said another, fresh in the grave.
    “This number multiplied and multiplied again will make us strong to break out of here where our souls rot in the ground,” said the rotting bones of a mathematician long set in the frozen earth.
    When the door burst open, all eyes turned to the distraction as the snow whirled in a bundle of rags that collapsed to the floor shivering.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherDean Moriarty
    Release dateJun 20, 2017
    ISBN9781370748617
    A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy
    Author

    Dean Moriarty

    What do you do when nothing seems to be working out? Most of my books are about that place you come to when you’ve reached the desert of all you know. When nothing seems to be working out and you find there’s nowhere left to go. When all you’ve tried has come to nothing and no amount of effort brings your goals any closer and where the questions you ask appear to drop dead at your feet. When all has become a grey mist about you populated by the ghosts of all you once loved; where do you turn? I turned to writing books.

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      Book preview

      A Case of the Deja Vu Daisy - Dean Moriarty

      A Case of The Déjà vu Daisy

      Copyright 2015

      By Dean Moriarty

      From the black books shelf

      Number eleven in the 37 series

      I would like to dedicate this little book to all the people who have narrated my books over the years, God bless every one of you.

      Also from The Black Books Shelf: in EBook, paperback and audio:

      Off the road: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      On the road: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Advanced quantum metaphysics for beginners: narrated by Antony Metcalfe

      The Poem: narrated by Linda Roper

      The spirit world: narrated by Gary Roelofs: number 7 of 37 series

      The dance of Zen: narrated by David K. Aycock

      The dark night of the soul: narrated by Linda Roper

      Sleepless Nights in Paradise: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Ten Fifths of a Moonbeam: narrated by David Randall Hunter

      God’s crazy parlour of sweet consent: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Under a full moon: narrated by David K. Aycock

      Bangkok, Thailand: narrated by Sangita Chauhan

      A hole in the wind: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Me-Devil Onions: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Another book: narrated by Gary Roelofs

      Mosquitoes and coffee: short sketches: narrated by Mike Broderick

      A Brick for the Blind: narrated by Samuel Schwarz

      Chinese sardines: narrated by Jim D Johnston

      The Rebilous Exchange: narrated by Jim Masters

      The emptiness dragon and the witch: narrated by Jim Masters

      Yoga butterfly poems: narrated by Jeffrey Knecht

      The best of Moriarty: narrated by Linda Roper

      The daily wound: narrated by Mr Formichella

      CQ calling, CQ calling: narrated by Steve Toner

      Rumi Jones: narrated by Nicole Young

      Machine city rebels: narrated by Jim Masters

      Ghost stories: narrated by Sarah Logan

      The Atlantic Coffee House Tales: narrated by Linda Roper

      The Hogwash Pickle: narrated by Jim Masters

      Satirical Existentialisms: narrated by Michael Hanko

      Something is very wrong with the Government: narrated by Mark Rossman

      Steampunk Zombies: paradox monkey: narrated by J. S. Arquin

      The Hotel with the Full moon Room Service: narrated by Mr Formichella

      Coffee Time Stories: narrated by Scotty Campbell

      The number 37 series:

      Book one is Captain Morgan Jones

      Book two is Paris after Midnight in Singapore

      Book three is Snowflakes Anonymous

      Book four is Suicide Wasteland

      Book five is Ten Fifths of a Moonbeam

      Narrated by David Randall Hunter

      Zazen in the nine layers of a yard of dust: is book six in the number 37 series and is narrated by Jim D. Johnston

      Soul Roots: narrated by Carl H Martens no 9 of 37 series

      The evil typewriter: narrated Carl H Martens no 8 of 37 series

      I love you: narrated by Matthew Stratton

      A MEMOIR IN JET LAG

      Hello, I said, in the sun of my smile to gently encourage my heart into surrender for one more dance to the bar where the mosquito radio was laying down a thousand tangos about my feet.

      As I drank the wine of this down, all the way into my belly, I heard someone say: relax it’s just the servitude under your feet that you’re falling into.

      Another jazz song then I thought, and carried the burden onwards.

      And as I did so I began to turn into jelly; which is when a brass band flashed in my ear and caused me to turn back again, away from the other side of my thoughts as I stared at the woman singing her set on stage.

      Well, this tango is different, isn’t it, I said to myself and wondered if the soul is influenced by the gender surrounding it.

      My drink was finished with me feeling I’d had enough anyway, and what with the jet lag I was kind of swaying on the spot, so I decided to see the performance out and then make my way to the hotel and call it a night.

      …

      I arrived back after stumbling along a few routes my legs took me and found the bar had closed, but a small bribe to the receptionist brought me a cold beer near to the pool, where I drank it and listened to the night sounds of Bangkok, out there somewhere.

      I was alone, nobody else around, and although I’d had a few drinks I still wasn’t sleepy.

      It was my first day of jet lag after arrival; always the same after a long haul flight

      …

      And then I heard laughter; a girl laughing; but where?

      I stood up to get a better view over the tables stacked with chairs and heard another giggle coming from across the dining room I suddenly was in that was next to the swimming pool in the open air. Hey, it’s Thailand I thought.

      It was then that I found myself with choices: I could sit back down again and pretend to be invisible. Or, I could go towards the sound of a girl laughing.

      Hmm, was the night calling me?

      But who was she laughing with?

      Well, there’s only one way to find out.

      Plucking myself up with all the energy I could muster, I ventured forth and towards that which was calling me to come and play, and eventually got there and crept into where they were.

      Creepy I know, but hey, anybody could be at home if luck was on my side.

      Two girls came into view: one blonde and one who said hello?

      Tripping over myself I began to glow, and the girls said: let’s go for a swim.

      Wait a minute, I said, how about an introduction?

      I’m a mermaid said the one I wanted to be with.

      And I’m her sister said the other one.

      Well, this is a nice surprise I said, and allowed myself to be drawn towards the one I wanted, and saw that she was looking at me.

      I just had to take out my time table then and examine it from end to end until I disappeared down the rabbit hole again to come up spluttering to say: I should be delighted.

      Now let me tell you how much fun it is to go skinny dipping at two o’ clock in the morning with two fun girls who wanted nothing more than to have fun…

      …

      I was determined not to let the jet-lag get me down, and so after I’d stripped off, I dove into the pool right into the moon’s reflection; and anyone who’s seen the moon’s reflection in the mirror will know what I mean. Anyway, emerging into the air I shook the water out of my eyes and looked to see where the girls were.

      Very close, like around about my left ear, I heard the sound of love saying: hello, kiss-kiss.

      As I tried to kiss her back, her sister shoved me under water and said: hands off, you dirty rotten scoundrel you.

      Got to really love this hotel…

      On a telephone pole way up above my head, an owl stared down at me dispassionately and said nothing at all, as hungrily as I looked up at it from the depths where I needed wisdom, and wished it would say

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