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In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Lady Eagleston enjoyed staying in the warm potting shed, taking her time to enjoy, appreciate and admire the ecstatic beauty of the blooming orchids. She let her thoughts wander for a few moments in the pleasant place smelling of cedar.
Her old friend, Hector Coon had sent her a rather unusual present this morning: a few bits coming from a watermelon’s rind strangely carved with unusual symbols. What an eccentric charming old fool this Hector…
They both loved to do each other unexpected presents of which they would then try to find some underlying meaning. Not that there was any such meaning to be identified most of the time, but it was some time pleasantly spent.So, she had thought the only place safe to bring the bits to was here — mostly to protect them from the furious cleaning practices of Finnley, who wouldn’t have the pleasure to throw them to the garbage this time. She had seen his disgusted look when she had opened the package with excitement.
Well, now what would he imagine she was doing in there?…
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
After a look in her mirror, Patricia M knew she was perfect.
Her honey blond hair was enhancing the fascinating power of her green copper gaze.
She pouted outrageously and put some more lip gloss on. Yes, she was highly satisfied with her appearance.
She stretched her short tightly fitting deep pink dress and admired her silhouette. A surge of excitation filling up her body.
She was ready to do her next move.In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Bea was drifting off to sleep on the patio, the gentle spring warm on her face. A stork glided past, and she noticed the first amethyst wisteria blossom against the blue sky. Dreamily, she heard a limerick forming in her mind:
There was an old crone called Wisteria
Who was prone to bouts of hysteria.
She fretted and flapped
Til her energy sapped,
And then she made friends with Deliria.The crone called Deliria hailed from
The unsettled realms of the maelstrom;
But she learned how to float
With the help of a goat
And considered it was quite a brainstorm.When Wisteria met with Deliria
She said “My! but you seem so familiar!
I admire your hat
So let’s have a chat
About goat floating maelstrom criteria”In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Finnley, you let me in right this mooment! commanded Elizabeth Tattler imperatively.
I am sorry, Ms Tattler, I am under strict instructions from Mr Arak that I am under no circumstances to let you in until this office has been cleaned. I will lose my job if I let you in.
Now there’s an idea! she thought, toying with the idea momentarily
Why that pompous, arrogant, supercilious proot ….. Elizabeth paused midflow to admire her vocabulary.
Finnley was quite enjoying the change of routine, and Ms Tattler’s office really was a treasure trove of interesting bits and pieces. The thick layer of dust, and were those magpie droppings? were a little off-putting mind-you. She plucked a book randomly from the shelf, and lifting the visor of her protective faceshield in order to see better, gently wiped the title clean. “I am Perfect Indeed” The author was some fellow named Erwin P Lemone who Finnley had never heard of. She picked another one, “Basic Flying Massage Techniques of the Ancient Kuzhebar, Book One for Beginners” by Jibberish E Shrale
Finnley, Elizabeth’s voice had taken on a wheedling tone from the other side of the door. Be a sweetie-pooh will you and put this note in my clooh-box. Finnley watched intrigued as a piece of paper inched its way under the locked door.
Sure Ms Tattler, where is the clooh-box?
On my office desk, next to the daily quotes. Don’t mess anything up Finnley dear, you be careful, I have very precious things in my office.
Finnley could not resist a peek but the scribbled words made no sense to her
Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macroopsia – Beckipooh?
13th gate and the 13th skull FEBRUPOOH 20TH 2008
The Snoot – who is he really?
supercilious proot!ArakDr Bronkelhampton? ? ? ? WHAT IS PLAN B?????????Her eyes fell on the daily quote for the day, that Lemone chappie again!
rainy wedding, merry marriage
She snorted derisively, He must be madder than Almad that Lemone, how silly! No wonder poor Ms Tattler seemed a bit mindblown sometimes if she reads stuff like that
