Predictably, the WDA’s phone ran out of battery. Pim and Bim departed. No one, the WDA included, knew where Gim had gotten to. The WDA’s psychic state can only be imagined.
Pim Comic Strip
How I came to write Pim
People often ask how I came to write Pim. It seems like a thousand years since I discovered Pim, or that Pim
discovered me. Thankfully I kept detailed notes and saved photos from that time. While I can’t swear to the
absolute accuracy of what you are about to read, I have done my best to capture the essence of how Pim entered my life.
Meanwhile, back in the States, Clive’s negotiations with Slim were interrupted by a phonecall from the WDA requesting technical assistance.
As the Well-Dressed Albatross was speaking to Pim and Bim on his phone, Gim appeared through the wreckage as if directed there by a benevolent and unknowable power to keep the WDA company.
Restricted beneath the wreckage, the Well-Dressed Albatross was nonetheless able to use his phone and called Pim who picked up on the first ring.
However, as they approached, the building collapsed. The WDA’s response was shrill, albeit inaudible beneath the rubble.
It would be correct to describe Pim and Bim as intently engaged with all places under the sun.
Delerious, the WDA lay within the sad structure. All night he saw, or imagined he saw, the figure of Mr. Love in the window, always walking away—Mr. Love, who himself had long been haunted by screaming figures against the night sky.
The WDA managed to convey himself across an open plain to a familiar structure, the worse for wear having been sanctuary to abandoned zoo animals, gone ferral and then perished.
After the others had all gone The Well-Dressed Albatross entered a waking dream state in which semblances of acquaintances moved in his periphery.
It seems Gim had fallen thousands of meters from the wheel-well of the very jet Clive had flown in on. Gim has gotten snagged on a tree branch right above where Clive was now pitching his proposal to Slim.
