Ninth Letter Plan B by Taylor Carlson

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THIS VERSION OF PLAN B WAS

IN RESPONSE TO NINTH LETTER VOL. 11.1

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RNAUD EISLER, A BAKER’S SON ROM VIENNA, NOW WANDERS THE AKESHIFT HALLS OF THE TRAVELING USEUM, PEERING CAREFULLY INTO IT LUTTERED, DIMLY LIT CHAMBERS. HE S NOT INTERESTED IN THE CURIOUS ISPLAYS—THE ROBOT MADE OF OOD AND GLUE AND LEATHER THAT NCE BELONGED TO A KING OF THE

HOU DYNASTY, THE BOOK OF STONES RITTEN BY A MUSLIM ALCHEMIST THA ETAILS HOW TO FASHION LIVE SNAKE ND SCORPIONS FROM WAX, OR THE ECHANICAL ANGEL BUILT DURING HE LATE MIDDLE AGES THAT IS SAID O ALWAYS TURN ITS FACE TOWARD HE SUN. THESE MAY BE OBJECTS OF ONDER, BUT THEY ARE FROM ANOTHE RA. ARNAUD FEELS TOO MUCH A MAN

THE THREE BOYS—DEVIN, GA CURTIS—CARRIED ALEXAND TAKING GREAT CARE TO KEE LIMPLY SKIMMING THE SIDE THEY LIFTED, TWO OF THEM LEG EACH AND THE OTHER H AROUND THE SHOULDER TH AN ARM. BECAUSE ALEXAND EVEN FOR THE THREE OF THE HAD TO TAKE BREAKS, LAYIN DOWN IN THE LAWNS OF WH YARD THEY WERE PASSING W WAS SLIPPING FROM THEIR

AVIN, AND DER SLOWLY, EP HIM FROM EWALKS AS HOLDING A HANGING ON HAT STILL HAD DER WAS HEAVY, EM, THEY OFTEN NG ALEXANDER HOEVER’S WHEN HE R FINGERS.

SHE’S A PEACH. I’ THE FACE IF YOU HER ODDLY, AND AGE I’LL PROBABL SITS ON THE POR GUN AFTER MIDNI WHEREABOUTS AR A FEW WEEKS BAC ING HER WHILE H

’D PUNCH YOU IN EVER LOOKED AT WHEN SHE’S DATI LY BE THE ONE W RCH WITH THE SHO IGHT. HER FATHER RE UNKNOWN TO CK I WAS WATCHHER MOM WAS AT

OFF

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OOK

Q R I C E . H E T U F D O ER CT H V A T F O A E N G A I D

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A R C S L I U E RC L O I O S CC TN U I A D S C H S T E E A U H L N Q C FU T T E N I U H O T S BO LS T S A A ’ T E IM OM I T OR AN FR X E M E M . Y E S G N R TH A A

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STING, TARGET ROT, BLACK SHOULDER. PERHAPS YOU’VE JUST GIVEN BIRTH, AS SO MANY FARMERS, INFLUENCED BY A MAN

YOU WAKE UP IN A ROOM WITH RED CURTAINS AND THINK OF THE WOMB AS JUST ANOTHER FRUIT SUSCEPTIBLE TO THE APHIDS. AN UNPRECEDENTED NUMBER OF TOMATO DISEASES STRIKE OHIO’S CROP THIS YEAR— BACTERIAL CANKER, PITH NECROSIS, ANTHRACNOSE, STUBBY ROOT,

JOHN SLIT THE SQUIRREL DO HE PULLED OUT THE STUFFE OF AN INSIDE BODY. IT WAS R SAW BLOOD LEAK ONTO THE PRECISE WERE HIS SHUSHIN THE BLADE. WHEN HE WAS W THIS THE TIME WENT POWDE AN ABUNDANCE AND REJOIC DISTRACTED EXACTITUDE. JOHN WAS A FRAME OF MAD TROUBLE, BUT HE HAD FOUN OPAQUE HOBBY. HE HAD BEC HYPNOTIZED BY THE ZIPLOCK

OWN THE BELLY. ED SAUSAGE RARE HE E TABLE, SO NG SLIDES OF WORKING LIKE ERY. HE HAD CED IN THE

DLY HUNG ND A BRAVE, COME KING OF

THE PARKING LOT H OVERRUN BY TIMOT OUT IN THE MIDDLE ALEXANDER WAS LY FETAL, AND THEY NO HE WAS MISSING M ARM. IT WASN’T LIK THEY ALL AGREED T BEEN STILL INTACT FOUND HIM IN THE HOUR OR LESS EAR

HAD LONG BEEN THY-GRASS. BUT E OF THE TIMOTHY YING CURLED UP, OTICED THAT NOW MOST OF HIS LEFT KE THAT BEFORE. THAT THE ARM HAD WHEN THEY’D FIELD ONLY AN RLIER.

THE FIRST THING THEY TELL A PROTOTRAPEZIST IS TO AVOID LOOKING DOWN. YET FOR HER, LOOKING AT THE NET IS THE ONLY THING THAT GIVES HER ANYTHING CLOSE TO PEACE, TO FALL AND BOUNCE BACK UP, A FANTASY THAT FOR A SPLIT SECOND HIDES THE SADNESS.

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