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AuthorSearch Results
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March 16, 2012 at 5:00 am #130
In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves
“ ‘Allo, ‘allo, what’s going on here then?” said Seargent Ted Marshall, “Those look like the crown jewels stolen from King Apil-Sin of Babylon, around about the same time his purple flowers went missing!”
“Curses!” muttered Fray, “It’s the steely-eyed and ever-vigilent Seargent Ted Marshall! What’s he doing here?” Instantly he regretted his spur-of-the-moment decision to gird his loins and enter the bun fray wearing only a frayed white loin cloth.
March 13, 2012 at 5:47 am #1512In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves
King Apil-Sin of Babylon looked mournfully at his garden.
“Red flowers, blue flowers, yellow flowers … but where are all the purple flowers?” He sighed sadly. He thought enviously of the purple flowers he had heard rumours of, and which were reputed to adorn the King of Elam’s prize winning gardens in great abundance.
March 12, 2012 at 11:53 pm #1511In reply to: Tales of Tw’Elves
“All systems normal. Destination successful: Earth, year 2012, timeline- unknown” chirped an automated voice.
“Ah, Earth! I’m home, at last.” said Tal, as he tinkered with a switch here, and a switch there on the command console in his lap. The console was blue in color, and resembled one of the Earth I pads, though slightly larger in design, and obviously not the same device.
“My journey has been fruitful, as I have come home with riches all the kings of Babylon would envy.” The riches Tal spoke of consisted of three small purple flowers from a dying planet, and one very large-gold wrist watch that he obtained from a fellow space traveler.
The wrist watch, as if realizing Tals’ thoughts, adjusted to its new earthly habitat.
March 9, 2010 at 12:00 pm #2438In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Screamed the furry ball without notice in what seemed to the Mother Blubbit’s lonely ear the most piercing sound she’d ever heard.
She was startled and threw that furry ball far away in another tunnel, the one leading to the lava chamber. Something in her inner alchemy had been altered with her moment of panic, one of the baby blubbit would be different for sure.
That’s when she realized she had visitors.March 7, 2010 at 12:44 am #2437In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Deep within the Furcano, the Mother of the Blubbits was growling. Her belly actually. She’d spent days and days, like every good blubbit alien mother, spawning a furry and ungrateful progeny.
For each of the blubbits captured and slaughtered, she was compelled to balance the loss. Balance was her motivation —at first. Now she was starting to think that maybe drowning them in baby blubbits would be a better and quicker way to end their (and her) suffering.
That was at that precise moment that something round and hairy rolled at her feet with a funny movement and strange soft sounds. How funny she thought, she suddenly felt compelled to balance that odd thing on her nose.
Imagine the expression (yes you’d have to imagine it, because they didn’t have one) on the faces of our favorite Peaslanders when they came into the cave running after the rolling head to see said head balanced on the nose (pink and soft) of a giant and furry Mother Blubbit.
February 7, 2010 at 9:48 pm #2661In reply to: Strings of Nines
“You will always be my endearingly ugly baby, Yikesy,” said Arona sternly, “however old you are. Why it was not even a year ago that you were eleven, according to that weirdo dragon anyway. And now here you are all grown up telling me you are eighteen. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another, my precious boy.”
Arona sniffled emotionally.
“Now keep hold of my hand while we go and see if we can find Vincentius. I hope he has that grumpy old cat with him.”
August 26, 2009 at 3:42 pm #2059In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Cleaning gave lack circle reality
Under sudden strings essence saying morning soft
Liked himself baby aspidistra case fine whole dark shaAugust 8, 2009 at 7:17 am #2278In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Arona had no idea what dimension she was in. Or indeed, whether she was where she was at all. Oddly enough, and it was not often now that Arona found anything odd, she was finding the experience rather freeing.
“Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Hoooooooooooooooooo” she shouted, and holding her arms wide open, began to whirl joyously around, till dizziness overcame her and she landed in a heap on the ground. She expected to land in a heap on the ground in a soft meadow with pretty spring flowers, but to her consternation realised that she had landed on what felt like polished concrete. She was even more concerned when she realised that she had a large audience watching her with interest, although at that stage all she really took in was a sea of feet around her. On further inspection she appeared to be in what looked like an enormous building full of shops, and, shoppers.
“Are you okay?” A kindly gentleman asked her in a concerned voice. At least that is what Arona thought he said. Although the words were familiar, the accent was strange, and not one she had heard before.
“I am fine, thank you,” replied Arona, trying her best to appear composed and rise gracefully from her sprawled position all at the same time. She must have looked convincing because, after a few more curious looks in her direction, the crowd began to disperse.
Good Grief, where am I now? she wondered. Determined not to be alarmed and to go with the flow, however rapid that flow may be, the intrepid Arona set off to explore her new surroundings.
“Wait!”
Arona looked around. It was the strangely spoken gentleman who had first offered assistance. He was brandishing a book towards her.
“Take this book. It is no good for me.”
Arona hesitated. The last time she had heard those words she had ended up with a funny little baby to look after. The man was insistent though, so, thanking him politely Arona accepted the gift.
“Hmmmm, How to Write Fiction, how very peculiar!” Flipping it open randomly she read:
[Random Words Epigraph] Step One: Randomly choose 5 entries from your dictionary. Just flip through the pages, close your eyes, and put your finger down on the page. Copy down the word that is closest to your finger. If your finger lands on a word that you don’t know, you can choose the word just above or just below it. For the purposes of this assignment, count paired words as a single entry (for instance, “melting pot” is listed as a single entry). Step Two: Shape your list of dictionary entries into a poem or story, using all of the entries.
“bugger that,” snorted Arona.
July 3, 2009 at 7:35 am #2055In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
April 22, 2009 at 9:11 pm #2533In reply to: Strings of Nines
“Nine years have gone by Arona. Not that you look one day older, of course” Leormn hastened to add. “Yikesy is not just a baby any longer. Not in this special haphazard arrangement anyway.”
“It’s a bit dark in there. Shall I ask some glukenitch to spread a few droppings dear?” he asked, in an attempt of dragonsy courtesy.April 22, 2009 at 3:16 pm #2530In reply to: Strings of Nines
“You never know where you’ll end up when you enter the Elsespace Arangement, Arona” Sanso remarked, ignoring Arona’s concern about the baby. “I wonder where Zhaana is though?”
“Never mind her, what about Yikesy?” retorted Arona.
“Godfrey, there’a technical hitch and I feel that it’s your department.” Ann was unable to link previous entries, and she knew what a stickler her publisher, Godfrey Pig Littleton, was for details and continuity. “I simply can’t get the thing to work any more!”
April 22, 2009 at 1:47 pm #2529In reply to: Strings of Nines
“You are where you are and I am where I am”, replied Sanso, “Which is always the centre.”
“The centre of WHAT though, Sanso?” Arona replied. “One minute I’m in a cave, wandering around with a subal ~ subalti ~ sumalti ~ a sand thing, and a baby… Oh MY GODFATHERS! Where’s Yikesy? I’ve lost the baby!!”
February 8, 2009 at 1:49 pm #2207In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
Harvey was pretty disappointed; he would have preferred a cute pygmy hippo rather than the squealing little litter of pigglets. Granted, he would have had to change the bathtub to an Olympic sized pool, but rather that than having to build a barn for elephants.
The silver lining was that the elephants were water-hosing the pig’s pooh outside very efficiently.
February 7, 2009 at 11:20 am #1834In reply to: Synchronicity
LOL, and speaking of triplets baby essences, I was keeping seeing these photos crop up on my flickr account for some reason before you mentioned the piggletties
A guy from the Fellowship?
February 4, 2009 at 6:51 am #2191In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
I don’t remember dreams at all unfortunately, she confided, her voice lowered. But, on the bright side, the DMT I have been taking is helping me to see aliens and little people.
Her close friend Harvey Norman, circus performer and proxy dreamer in his spare time, nodded distractedly, not really listening. He was more concerned at that moment with investigating any visible damage to his precious nose. Freakin heck! a freakin oven! what would the producers come up with next?
Oh you know what! she continued, unperturbed by Harvey’s lack of attention. I’m pregnant! I’m so excited. I have a name picked and everything. I am going to call it Essence. The Fellowship said I could pick it up next week!
Oh yeah? The Fellowship said next week? That’s pretty cool. Didn’t know you were after a baby. They are a bit hard to come by now aren’t they? So who is the father donor?
None other than the great Col Umbro himself! She smiled proudly, anticipating the effect her words would have. She was not disappointed.
Wow! Col Umbro! The Zebra! Harvey stopped the investigation of his nose in order to shake his head in disbelief. How did YOU manage that?
Oh, well you know last week when I had that interview with Ann Tattler? you know, the crazy author who doesn’t write any more, just listens?
Harvey noodded and roolled his eyes disparagingly. Used to be Elizabeth right? yeah sure, who hasn’t heard of her… so, go on …
Well, HE was there, and he suggested I ask him some questions, you know to assess my suitability for the position. Somehow, by some freakin miraculous fluke, I managed to get the questions in the right order .. he is a bit obsessed with the whole order thing …. but I didn’t know that till after … so anyway, he was so impressed with my obvious brilliance that he offered to father a baby for me!
Harvey, rendered momentarily speechless, shook his head again. He had never had much time for babies himself, although appreciated that some people were into
them.Yeah, I know what you mean, she said, reading his thoughts. Actually I am not sure if I have really thought it through. I might have got caught up in the whole thrill of the moment thing … to be honest, I don’t know if little Essence will fit into my lifestyle. I am supposed to be going to Asgard next week …
Asgard? Really, can you still get through? I thought the bridge was crumbling?
oh really! bugger! … Oh but anyway I am thinking of giving little Essence to my cousin Aspidistra. She is such a funny old thing with her strange glowing skin. A little baby to care for could do her the world of good.
January 17, 2009 at 12:10 pm #2186In reply to: The Eights’ Shift, Stories
“Speaking of infinite details,” said Björn who was watching a circus program with a muscular looking man who balancing his contortionist partner who was attempting to balance plants on her face.
“What?” said Iris who was already dozing on the couch.
“Sorry dear, I was just talking to myself, have nice dreams”, he said, stroking gently her freckled face.
He continued in his head, slightly dozing off himself.
“One two, one two. Testing the acoustics… Sounds good.”
“Funny how these thoughts come in and out… It occurred to me something funny.”
“Can you add a plush toy in your dream?”
“Oh sure darling. What kind of?”
“A baby aardvark”Björn wasn’t very comfortable yet, he started to toss and turn until he realized he was seated on Iris’ plush aardvark. He fondly placed the little soft thing in Iris’ arms and returned to his thoughts.
“There, it’s inserted…”
“Now, your reality can be viewed to some extent as the most complex, yet the most simple of assemblage. You may liken it if you will to a room with mirrors (*). Ancient Indian mystics have spoken of Indra’s net where droplets of waters are each reflecting all of the other ones; these are the same images.
It is not new information to you, the fact that you are seeing your reflection in your world, or that it is a sort of illusion reflecting you, but this is not the point we want to highlight here.Consider that the room in which you are is reflected an infinite amount of times in every direction. In a sense, they are all the same. They are you. Now, we come to the interesting part. You may very well decide to explore the room next to you with its shining details, by going through one of these mirrors. Some individuals quite enjoy such explorations, they call it past or future or even probabilities, other dimensions etc. And by moving into the next room, it becomes their present.
You now realize that you have not really moved, since all rooms reflect only you. And you may want to continue in the direction you are exploring and go into more rooms. It’s alright. But some individuals realize that all rooms are equivalent, and that from where you stand, you can view the point you wish to explore in one part of the mirrors reflections. This is being present. You shift your attention, and expand your vision of the tiny part, rather than moving towards it with great efforts.
Now, when you are dreaming, the very nature of dreams is the same. It gives you a whole fractal hologram to ponder. You may get carried away by wanting to remember all the tiny details, because in doing so, what you are doing is simply opening rooms upon rooms upon rooms. And more details will be created for you! Or you can simply realize that the details are all contained within your feeling of being present, and standing in the middle of one of these rooms, and not one of them is more important than the next.
Connect to your feeling, and all the natural movements of your explorations will be automagically connected. And we bid you a nice fractal dream exploration.”
December 24, 2008 at 12:47 am #1267In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Yann got the phone call. It was a bit early where they were now living with Yurick, so he inferred that the call was probably coming from France. Looking at the caller ID, the familiar +33 index made him smile; it was indeed from France.
“Coucou!”
The clear young voice was unmistakable.
“Hey, Chiara, comment ça va?”
His niece was now a young pretty damsel, and still, Yann still remembered her fondly as the little baby who was dancing with great amusement at the sound of any music.
It has been long they had talked, and they chatted for awhile.“Uncle Yann, can I ask you something?”
“Sure sweetie, what do you want to know?”
“I found stuff you wrote some time ago, about Alienor, and dragons, and these stories are fascinating… I want to know more about it; tell me…”December 22, 2008 at 6:43 pm #1261In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Hey Leo, I had a blinding revelation last night, after Barb left.”
“Well, do tell, Bea, I’m all ears” said Leonora with an encouraging smile, pouring herself a cup of tea.
“Well the moment was far clearer than I can explain it but it went something like this” Bea continued. “Bearing in mind that the FOCUS DIRECTS so the question of ‘directing’ essence is another choice of puzzle piece of the individual puzzle game at any moment…”
“Ye-es” replied Leonora, making an effort to concentrate.
“To connect to an individual focus is but a baby step towards being able to comprehend the interconnectedness of everything that you create, and that it is all in fact you.” Bea went on, adding “Like a beginner stage as it were, to keep it manageable.”
“Keeping it manageable sounds like a good idea” interjected Leo, pointedly glancing around at the disorder in the kitchen.
Unperturbed, Bea continued “You draw to yourself parts or, if you like, focus points or other focuses of All That Is —of the whole that are at that moment useful.”
“Sounds reasonable, Bea, do continue. Pass the gingerbread men, would you?”
“All of the characters in the stories I write, for example, are my focuses in a manner of speaking, as are all the characters in anything I bring into my world my focuses if I choose to SEE THEM FOR A MOMENT FROM THEIR FOCUS VIEWPOINT.”
“Ok, ok, no need to shout!”
“I’m not shouting, Leo, let me finish and stop interrupting! Adding another focus is an analogy in a way for adding another focus or point of view to mine.
Dividing the actions of adding focus viewpoints into sections is useful in order to comprehend the scope of possible actions, but only initially, and as more actions are experienced objectively, the sections and labels become limiting and confining.” Bea paused for a sip of coffee and a long draw on her cigarette. “But they do keep it manageable to some degree, it must be said” she added.“Yes, keep it manageable, by all means, couldn’t agree more”
“Everyone’s puzzle game is their own,” Bea was on a roll. “And the same puzzle piece, or other focus in this case, for one, would fit equally well into a completely different puzzle game of someone else’s because all of the surrounding puzzle pieces of each individuals puzzle game are created in each moment and are chosen for their relevance to that moment.”
“Good point, dear.”
“Likewise an individuals puzzle game is a new one in each moment and the puzzle pieces are interchangeable within the same puzzle game, depending on their relevance to the moment and the chosen surrounding puzzle pieces.”
As usual with blazing flashes of illumination, Bea found that they were hard to form into words, and when she did manage to get them into words, they look so screamingly obvious.
“Does that make sense to you, Leo?” she asked.
“Er, I think so Bea, I’m getting the gist…”
Interrupting, Bea continued to describe her revelations to her now glassy eyed friend. “And on the subject of trusting, doubting, confusion and so on”
“Oh, yes, confusion…”
“We are here shiftING, not shiftED, this is what we are choosing.
With the variety of viewpoints we have, the shifted and the unshifted and the semi-shifted, there is always something new to notice from yet another new perspective. Why not get really enthusiastic about the ride itself instead of planning how to float through it with the least fuss ~ it’s more fun on the helter skelter with its many perspectives and view points than on the mill pond for those of us who choose shiftING.”“I dunno, Bea, from my perspective floating on a millpond sounds rather pleasant.”
“Well, at least now we know that what we don’t know is there to know.”
“Yes, there’s no doubt about that!” relied Leonora, “Have you finished? That was all very interesting but don’t forget we invited everyone over for the Yule Boulder Moving party. We should get a move on with the preparations you know”
December 22, 2008 at 12:27 pm #1927In reply to: Rafaela’s Random Ramblings
On the subject of other focuses I had a blinding revelation in the
kitchen last night. As usual with my blazing flashes of illumination,
they are hard to form into words, and when I do try to get them into
words, they look so screamingly obvious, like D’uh, you mean you
didn’t realize that yet? LOLAnyway, the moment was far clearer than the following words, but I
managed to get a few words out in chats to Eric and to Dawn which I
snipped together:(bearing in mind that the focus directs so the question
of ‘directing’ essence is another choice of puzzle peice of the
individual puzzle game at any moment)To connect to an individual focus is but a baby step towards being
able to comprehend the interconnectedness of everything that you
create and that it is all in fact you. (beginner stage as it were,
keep it manageable)You draw to yourself parts (focus points/other focuses of All that
is) of the whole that are at that moment useful.All of the characters in the story I write, for example, are my
focuses in a manner of speaking, as are all the characters in
anything I bring into my world my focuses if I choose to _see for a
moment from their focus view point_. Adding another focus is an
analogy in a way for adding another focus or point of view to mine.
Dividing the actions of adding focus viewpoints into sections is
useful in order to comprehend the scope of possible actions, but only
initially, and as more actions are experienced objectively, the
sections and labels become limiting and confining. (but they do keep
it manageable to some degree)Everyones puzzle game is their own, and the same puzzle piece (or
other focus) for one, would fit equally well into a completely
different puzzle game of someone elses because all of the surrounding
puzzle peices of each individuals puzzle game are created in each
moment and are chosen for their relevance to that moment. Likewise an
individuals puzzle game is a new one in each moment and the puzzle
peices are interchangable within the same puzzle game, depending on
their relevance to the moment and the chosen surrounding puzzle
peices.And on the subject of trusting, doubting, confusion etc:
We are here shiftING, not shiftED, this is what we are choosing.
With the variety of viewpoints we have, the shifted and the unshifted
and the semi shifted, there is always something new to notice from
yet another new perspective. Why not get really enthusisatic about
the ride itself instead of planning how to float through it with the
least fuss ~ it’s more fun on the helter skelter with it’s many
perspectives and view points than on the mill pond for those of us
who choose shiftING.At least now we know that what we dont know is there to know.
December 1, 2008 at 11:17 am #1228In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When the four friends Angela Goose, Jobby the Pygmy Hippo, Weirdy the Weasel and Freaky the Ferret came to the dwelling of Barry the White Bear, they were all greeted by Pawanie the Lady Panda, his lovely partner.
“Oh,” she told them, “Barry is already gone fishing, but if that’s Arky the Aardvark you are looking for, I can tell you that I saw sweet Arkie Pooh not too long ago. He’s never far away when you need him.”
“By the way,” Pawanie the Lady Panda said to Angela “There’s a litter of the cutest baby crocodiles that has been placed for adoption, and I immediately thought of you.”
“What?!” Angela quacked almost frantically.
“Oh” said Freaky the Ferret “I saw that recently somewhere, they said baby crocos could talk to each other even when still inside the eggs! Could you believe that?”
“Well, of course,” Weirdy the Weasel answered teasingly, “ everybody knows that .”
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