Avatar The secret life of Chris

My past is a shady, murky place. Little is known by the general public.

A while ago, it came as a surprise to everyone when I revealed that I was once jilted at the altar by a bear. But there are more secrets to be revealed, and today I am finally ready to share one with you. For a long time I wasn’t sure I could ever tell anyone about this, because to be honest I don’t remember it, but apparently – many years ago, longer ago, in fact, than I thought I had ever been alive – I was a stylish Edwardian lady.

It all seemed quite improbable until the evidence turned up: this lovely portrait, hanging up in my local Wetherspoons, that undeniably shows me in my previous form.

What hasn’t come to light yet (and I’ve asked the landlord about it, but he said he didn’t know, and he had other people to serve so I had to stop asking him) is what my name was in those days. I doubt it was Chris. It would have to have been something more delicate and ladylike. If your research produces any results on that front I’d be glad to hear them.

19 comments on “The secret life of Chris

  • So first you’re a drawing on the side of a Lush container. Now you’re an Edwardian doodle?

  • You do like obscure places to hid your viso/volto. Perhaps you’ll appear on the underside of this pillow?

  • Hang on, does this mean that you’ve broken into my flat, you’ve hidden yourself under my pillow and you’re waiting for me to come home?

  • Your lack of detail and supporting evidence still fills me with a sense of dread that cannot be documented by mere words alone.

  • Have you looked under your pillow yet? That would be a quick way to end the dread.

    Unless I’ve moved and my beautiful v/v is now hidden elsewhere in your dwelling.

  • Your viso/volto is now potentially the scariest thing in our flat, just ahead of the picture Reuben drew of a man with his face wrapped in bandages and sporting a hook for a hand.

  • That’s the status my vi/vo has been dreaming of all these years.

    It’s moved again, by the way. You’ll find it somewhere else. Perhaps.

  • I don’t like this game. This game could happen anywhere. Every time I lift the toilet seat up I brace myself. Each opening of the fridge door leaves me cold (no pun intended). You are EVERYWHERE, much like the… umm the ummm… this sounds awfully familiar.

  • You did used to have a very tiny waist, and MASSIVE shoulders. How did you stop yourself snapping in half in a strong breeze?

  • What’s with the weird design on your stomach? It’s either a poorly-drawn stick person or a grouchy face. Did you used to have two visa/voltos?

  • It was a stick person doing gymnastics. That was the outfit I usually wore back when I ran that Edwardian ladies’ gym.

  • You see you, right, you’re the most gym I’ve ever seen anyone. Stop that right now.

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