"I think they are out to get me." "How can

"I think they are out to get me." "How can you tell?" "There is all this 'whispering' behind my back." "Well, you do work at a library."

"Yes, well, it's not normal library whispering. They're out to get me, I tell you!" "You're imagining things. You need some time off." "No! They poke their heads out of the books &

they move around! It's real!" "You fell asleep well reading, that's all." "But look! When you open this book! It's haunted!" "...That's a pop-up book." "It's the devil is what it

said! It's demonic!" "Books don't talk." "I read it with my own two eyes, Doc." "Ah, well maybe that's the problem. When was the last time you had your eyes checked?"

atop the fireplace mantle, wearing motley, and jerking about holding a couple of light sticks!" "I still don't see anything." "Dude" -- I was at wits end -- "this is the worst rave

outfit I have ever laid eyes on." I was looking at a hipster with skinny jeans and nothing glowing. He'd taken a wrong turn somewhere near San Francisco and had ended up here.

His journey had been in search of his birdman cousin, who loved folding stories. Birdman had founded the Folding Story Society that used the cut up methodology of Brion Gysin.

Brion Gysin was, or had a man of great importance in the Folding world. Sadly, he passed away, causing much distress in the folding society crowds. To properly respect his death,

the folding society threw lines of sad music on to Brion's Viking ship. Then they doused the wooden vessel in oil, and set it alight, like his ancient Nordic tradition demanded.