OK, this installment requires a bit more explanation. If you are reading this, and are a fan of web-comics, chances are you are tilting the geek meter a little to the left already. If so, you probably know about QR codes. If not, you may have noticed them popping up in magazines and newspapers. If you are oblivious of them, the skinny can be found HERE.

It takes a mobile smartphone or pad to read them (using a free app.) I am not trying to exclude anybody; I’m just trying to make it a bit more fun. So slip your geek on and give it a try! (And YES, these codes do actually say something.) (The link above also has some web page QR readers for those without smart phones.)

Because of the nature of these little flash fiction vignettes, I thought it would be helpful to index previous back stories and journal entries. Although Artiste’s tales are non-linear, it can help to read some pages in groups by threads of associated content. Of course you could just read them randomly, and trust that it will all come together at some point.

The beginning back story is always a great place to start:
• The Artiste Gullible back story

For this particular installment it also may help to read:
•  Home Sweet Home
•  Paying Debts

↓ Transcript
[image] A picture of a large rock with a QR code on it.
Translation follows:

Tomorrow's path a lonely road retread.
As recent past looms forward in the night.
My love forever shares with me a bed,
a shadow of a dream beyond my sight,
who spoons a common time inside my head.

Though separate lives leave echos in the stone;
a dungeon of duplicitous design,
through time and space our miseries atone
for errant sins who's origins are blind,
Forever bound together and alone.

Beneath this link is a QR code that URL's to the Artiste Gullible web site.

[text] To the left of my front door, on a large stone slab, a curious petroglyph greets my guests. Ancient in years, it calls from the depth of time and space, across the void; a curious mix of prehistoric malaise and modern marvels.

The stone was blank when I first discovered my home. It appeared shortly thereafter to my amazement and consternation. For eon stretching months, I stared at its pattern, contemplating its significance; wondering, in fact, if some future self had put it there as a warning or a muse?

It wasn’t till an early 21st century push that I deciphered it’s meaning.
It was later still, that I uncovered the author and added my own mark under its joyful lament.