Jazzmin Flush (26)

   
   "Jazzmin Flush (26)"   
   
   Jazzmin Flush knew, as she got toasty and cozy in a sophisticated shanty within the Caribou Mountains, icy twist of Green Resurrection Springing somewhere, maybe not exactly here, where she was, found nearly Han Soloways before Fett's frigid escort to Jabba, by a gorgeous soul named Anernerk, a type of native infused into the sacred land--attractive and elderly with symmetrical, artistic lines through his face, till upon a gray diadem of flowing, dead tissue.
   And Jazzmin Flush knew too--it was time for Girthy Gilda to go smokeless. Anernerk had given her some snus, a tobacco product forged by the Northern Europeans, and she decided to give the shiny tin to Girthy Gilda--if she ever made it, wherever and back, alive in body.  Then, Anernerk, smiling with hot water and cocoa mix, sat across from her on dilapidated furniture within permafrost habitat; next, deciding to be a visionary with vocal reminder.  "The Harrowing of Hell Today.  The Great Sabbath, you, Catholic Girl."
   Jazzmin Flush regally burped surprise.  "You know I'm Catholic, in a cafeteria but respectful mode mind ya?"
   "Anernerk knows many things.  Your boyfriend--a freaking dog.  But every dog has a day--maybe two, once said a great bard."
   Jazzmin Flush wished a little of the weird away today, and great--her boyfriend is a dog.  Still, she knew--I love you Lord.