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  • #1818

    In reply to: Synchronicity

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Interestingly, the random quote today was about Yikesy and after Jib made his comment reintroducing the little baby Ugling after quite some time without news, I found out this newsline in Yahoo about tropical storm Ike, in Florida Keys…

      And watching a StarWars blooper on youtube to show Jib for lack of better explanations, there was a “Marshall Hiroshima” in the credits… Synchs with Tracy and her friend (she’ll have to tell it if you want more details, but anyway, that’s another sync)

      #1118

      The corridors were unusually long and Malvina was thinking of urging Leormn back to the cave, but she pulled herself together and began to sing a well known song of her friends’ world.

      :fleuron:

      Mandrake was trying desperately to relax, but apparently Yikesy wasn’t seeing it that way. Vincentius was so patient that it wasn’t human… well he wasn’t human after all, and Mandrake was beginning to doubt the baby could be human too, his dark rocky face notwithstanding.

      After all he had done to amuse him, the baby’s responses were quite disappointing. His subtle puns, his witticisms and his elaborate jokes all overlooked… And worse, that devilish baby dared pull his tail! Mandrake couldn’t help a disgraceful meow before he ran away from the scoundrel.
      Vincentius had told him the baby was a bit young, but the cat was suspecting a particularly mischievous tendency.

      The baby stopped crying and shouting. That’s when Mandrake realized someone was coming.
      Strange song really, he had never heard that language before… maybe it was just jibberish. He sprang on his feet and sidestepped skillfully another attempt of the little one to catch his tail. It was the occasion he was waiting for.

      :fleuron:

      Focused on her 100th kilometer, Malvina hadn’t notice she was arrived. Vincentius was attending to the child’s need and she had just the time to notice the cat who had just snaked under her petticoat.

      Mandrake, be careful! I almost walked on your tail…

      — Meow! (that one was quite elegant and he was proud of it) Well, he said ironically, I was trained by the boy…

      She laughed at the idea of Mandrake tormented by Yikesy.

      — He’s Yike a cyclone, not resting until complete exhaustion.
      The trace of bitterness in his tone surprised him, though he began to relax under her smile. That was a long time since he hadn’t purred like that… he really liked her presence and energy, and it seemed to influence the kid also.

      — Are you going to make him sleep? he asked eagerly.

      — Oh no, I’ve merely soothed your energy and the baby is responding quite readily to the newborn calmness of the room.

      — That was rude, he said as if offended, but he was grateful for it. Vincentius, my dear fellow companion in this godforsaken place, he called to divert attention from him. Look at who’s here.

      The semi-god turn quickly his head and bowed it slightly before returning to his main preoccupation.

      — He’s a bit rude too. He had barely welcomed you…

      — Well he’s quite aware I’m not here for him or the baby.

      #1111
      AvatarJib
      Participant

        With the winter coming so fast (no more season you see), Dory was busy tidying her patio waiting for the next plane to Long Pong.
        All the dusty trinkets and the artworks she had brought back from her different excavations; she had to put them into some shelter, just in case. Last week the temperature had plummeted so quickly. She had to take the warm clothes out of the closets and realized she also had to change some of them in the process. Some unfriendly moth had eaten the wool of her favorite sweater…
        She was feeling dull and empty. Almost like she had no more purpose. Doing that cleaning and tidying was a way of distracting herself from that impression, she knew it would pass.
        Since the departure of her friends, Yann and Yurick, she had felt a bit lonely, even with Dan being present.
        She lacked a new excavation project, one that would fill in her blood with excitement and passion.

        An odd thought made her shudder. For a moment she had considered the idea of having a baby.

        — “No!”
        Really, she should find something worthy of her unlimited energy and not something that would chain her in habits and force her attention outside of her. Though, she seemed quite short of energy lately… However, it was not the time, not the place… and merely not the life for it.

        She wondered : what were her friends doing?
        Yann and Yurick were most probably preparing their new book, and Finn had told her last time that she was on the verge of adopting a baby Orangatun“she would need spare jungle in her garden”, she chuckled at the sudden vision of Finn gardening her jungle… Well at least it would give her a good distraction.

        She stopped her tidying and came back inside the house. Where was the wireless phone again? Apparently everything was a mess… she’d have to rethink the “no” she had given Dan last time he had asked her if she needed a butler.

        Oh! under her former favorite sweater, of course! She took the phone and composed Finn’s number. Maybe she would extend her trip from Long Pong to New Zealand…

        #94
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Best known in Oorth (Dimension of Ooh) for his best selloor Words of Comfort for the Descending, a groot philosoopher and wool of wisdoom, Erwin P Lemone has made a few delightful and abysmally profoond aphorisms that needed a proper anthology.

          Be it the place for such an endeavoor.

          A few quotes

          “Sometimes it takes a single sniggly thorny path to go through to reach Elysian avenues much more efficiently” — ID850

          “rainy wedding, merry marriage” — ID1183

          “Better speak nonsense than be dead or sorry” — ID1644

          “It’s not the writer’s job to piece the stuff life is made of together, it’s the job of the reader.” — ID1661

          “A new-born book is like a little baby, except it smells only of ink, and doesn’t make spurious sounds” (said at an interview with journalist Finckle Frettle on Oo-TV)

          #1023
          Avatar1da
          Participant

            4:21:44 PM 8-8-08 1da Geolocation Time.

            sometimes the flow climbs a mountain.

            pause. step. quick step. pause again. step. upstream another step. the stones solid, smooth, settled beneath my feet with the timeless passing of water. the path of gravity. the rising of a mountain. a rapid, considered, going on pace. sand between the stones. the moments of time. light on the rippling waters flickering. the air transparent, timeless, crisp, cool.

            knowing i’ve passed this way before, i pass again for the first time.

            it’s good to be back. returning. beginning.

            knowing my destination. the cave far above beneath the ancient pine. the boulder near the rough and gnarled trunk, slick and smooth. so hard the sense is of softness gliding with my fingers over the iridescent surface. soft to sit upon, to watch the valley far below extending forever into the distance. soft to recline upon, arcing my back. the warmth of the day in the stone, lingering far into the night to heat my bones. …knowing my destination, i take the next step into all that is new.

            sitting near the water. deep transparent pools of green/blue. the setting red sun. a shelter beneath driftwood high on the bank. a myrtle tree draping a blanket of scent over me, opening my soul. with each breath. i watch the light fading into the words echoing through my skull… life is hard… the song…

            Life is hard
            Anyway you cut it
            Life is sweet,
            Like a berry from a tree
            Life is temptation, baby,
            Every single day
            Life is hard

            Life is funny,
            I dont mean ha-ha
            It‘s not always sunny,
            When it needs to be
            Life is frightening,
            Nothing lasts forever
            Life is hard

            My time
            Is next to nothing
            My time
            Falls on you, yeah
            Everything
            Is in motion
            Life is hard

            Life is precious,
            No matter how you see it
            Life is crazy,
            Like yellow fishes in the street
            Life is lonely
            When you‘re not with me
            Life is hard

            Gentlemen
            Is that you story?
            Hanging religion
            From a tree, yeah
            My time
            Is next to nothing
            Life is hard

            My time
            Is next to nothing
            My time
            Falls on you, yeah
            Everything
            Is in motion
            Life is hard

            My time
            Falls on you, yeah
            Life is hard
            Life is hard

            – J. Mellencamp – while on the planet earth.

            ok. life is also beautiful. – 1da

            it’s a cruel crazy beautiful world – J. Clegg – also while on the planet earth.

            stars flickering in the fading twilight. the silence of a light breeze as pine boughs begin to whisper. the ache of tall trees swaying in the night with a moan like countless masts on the tall ships of a planet. blink. and i sleep.

            #962
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              I’m worried about Al, Tina, said Becky. He’s really acting strange lately, have you noticed?

              Noticed! Of course I’ve bloody noticed! exclaimed Tina.

              Aw, Tina! Becky gave Tina a warm hug.

              I don’t think he’s getting enough sleep, Becky, Tina continued. Like for example, you know what you were writing in the Reality Play about Becky and the clones? Well, he thinks it’s real! He thinks the babies are clones. He even thinks YOU’RE a clone, Becky!

              Oh surely not, Tina! Ahahahah! Becky couldn’t help laughing.

              It’s no laughing matter, Backy, said Tina reproachfully, but Becky’s laughter was infectious and Tina started to smile. Oh stop making me laugh! I’m worried!

              A gurgling sound erupted from one of the baby Moses baskets. Those babies have such a sense of humour for such tiny things! said Tina, smiling down at the sunny smiling little faces.

              Haha yes, when they’re not screaming with rage, laughed Becky.

              Tina frowned. I wonder what Al sees when he looks at them?

              What do you mean, Tina?

              Well, didn’t you read Al’s last entry in the Play? Don’t ask me for a link, Becks, look it up yourself!

              Becky rolled her eyes with mock exasperation. You mean about them being emotionless?

              He’s reconfiguring their energy to fit his delusions, Becky. He’s becoming so immersed in the Play that he’s believing it’s real . It’s all a bit worrying, because he’ll be going on about dragons and mermaids in the apartment next, or talking chairs or something. I don’t know how to handle it.

              Hey, I have an idea! Becky said. How about that doctor Muir?

              #949
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                They don’t do much though Sam, do they? said Tina, looking quizzically at the sleeping infants and just managing to repress the urge to prod one of them in order to wake it.

                Sam did not appear to be overly bothered. He was making strange cooing noises and waving a toy Lemur in the air in front of the cribs.

                He glared at Tina. Shush Tina! Do you have no maternal instincts at all? Sleeping or not, they take everything in. Do you know that baby crocodiles talk to each other even from inside the egg? He shook his head in exasperation.

                Don’t mind that mean old Tinipooh, he said gently to the babies. Uncle Sam will play you some nice soothing didgereedoo.

                Tina laughed, kissed Sam affectionately, and made a hasty exit. Not that she didn’t enjoy the didgereedoo, of course.

                #940
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  Phew, said Becky, mopping her brow with her hand, what a great work out!

                  Tina was very impressed with how diligently Becky was doing her Visualisation Exercises for Pregnancy, and rather surprised to see genuine sweat pouring down her flushed and hot face. She had agreed to do the exercises with Becky, but truth to tell had dozed off after a few minutes. Still, not that I need to do exercises, Tina thought, admiring her toned and slim body. Becky kept complaining about weight gain, and Tina had tried to point out that was what happened when one had a baby. Becky was having none of it.

                  By the way Tina, what’s up with Al?

                  Yeah … said Tina hesitantly, torn between loyalty and honesty. Well I don’t really know. He is a bit obsessed …

                  Obsessed is the word! It’s turning into a monologue. We had better write something soon or who knows what havoc he will wreak on the reality play. You know he killed the spider?

                  Well, said Tina brightly, always willing to see the bright side, at least it has distracted him from his body modification experiments for a while.

                  #2026

                  In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                  ÉricÉric
                  Keymaster

                    REELING IN THE green BEAM OF LOVE
                    various ASPECTS OF tracy WENT within
                    perhaps ONE OF THEM KNOWN AS glorIA
                    WOULD BASK IN THE hand OF flove TOO
                    SEEING WITH HER OWN eyes
                    THAT WHICH WILL BE replied
                    NEEDS NOT BE googled
                    IN stone sleep probable SELF laughed
                    LIKE A baby LOOKING AT veranassessee
                    AND vincentius HAVING spiderS track
                    THE TIMETRAVELING bunny…

                    #915

                    Looking again at the leo-parts he just found in the digital archives of the play, Al was now amazed at how the Becky he had had glimpses of in her tarty nunfit had looked similar to her step-mother Dory in her youth…
                    Fascinating…

                    #913
                    AvatarJib
                    Participant

                      The afternoon was hot, a bit moist and sticky too. Yurick and Yann were enjoying the freshness of Dory’s patio.
                      Cold lemon drink in cocktail glasses, the radio playing some sun related song.
                      Dan was out playing golf with friends and would be here for dinner.
                      Dory, dozing on her rocking chair had told Yurick and Yann that they could use their computers, they had 2 of them, so Yurick could take Dory’s and Yann could take Dan’s. Yurick was busy checking his mails and answering all those who had submitted some article for the next issue of their e-zine, and Yann wanted some distraction. He was just looking at some pictures on Gurgle, some movies on Yootune. Some of them were cracking him up, and he had difficulties keeping his :-| face serious.
                      At the same time he was browsing through Dan’s pictures folders. Some of them were really amazing. Pictures of Dory on the field, with her pith helmet and her brushes, her shovels or even her pick. She was very funny looking when she was finding something seemingly out of nowhere, having dug all day long with no result and then finally some treasure! Often, Yann thought, it was only some fragment of a vase or some broken tool, but she always had this awe-inspired gaze ;))

                      What is the name of this singer again?, asked Yurick.
                      You ask me?

                      The grin on Yurick’s face was all that Yann was waiting for. Yann had no memory of names of singers or actors. Their face, once he had seen it were recorded in his mind, but their name was like a summer breeze, refreshing, but soon forgotten. He knew that Yurick was more asking that to himself.

                      Dunno me luv. You can ask the mummy in the living room if you want…
                      Hahaha, graowl

                      Hehehe. Funny that, thought Yann. Coming back to the computer screen, his eyes fall on a strange folder name.
                      Patate? What’s that!?
                      Double-click.
                      Just a few files. Videos mainly. The names weren’t very evocative…
                      Yann picked one and waited for the movie to begin.
                      It was kind of black and white movie… the grain was gross and old fashioned. There was no audio.
                      Yann had an old memory of a similar movie seen on the comodor computer of his cousin’s parents… his cousin had told him about some weird movie he had found in a floppy disk of his father…
                      So, there was a man, maybe in his 60’s, he was wearing a gray bathing suit and was a bit hairy. Drinking some kind of grey cocktail.
                      A girl came in… with an amazing leopard baby-doll!!! from what Yann could see, she was blond and fleshy. Oh! and she had some friends. All of them with a leo-part on them :-?

                      Ahem! Yurick? Wanna see what I found?
                      Hmmm
                      I’m sure you’ll find some interest :)) hahaha! Oh my Flove! She’s really doing it!?
                      =))

                      Seeing his friend hilarious picked the curiosity of Yurick and he eventually came to see. The look on his face when he saw what was happening was too much for Yann who burst into laughter. That was enough to wake Dory who almost fell off her rocked chair.

                      What is that? Where did you find that… thing? Dory looked offended, but soon she was blushing.
                      Oh! no… don’t look at that. It was a youthful mistake…

                      #1799

                      In reply to: Synchronicity

                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        coinciding with all the baby comments, there were two baby stories today in the paper:

                        NZ’s most premature baby, Phoebe Finlay
                        can’t find the link to the other one but it was about a 17 year old who already has 7 kids, including 2 lots of triplets.

                        #868
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          In another probability, Becky was in fact sterile, and was glad to hear her friend Tina propose her to be a surrogate mother to give her the joy to have little rugrats err… children… [¹]

                          With a few embryos implanted to make sure one would grow, it came as a surprise that all of them did in fact became healthy babies…

                          :face-surprise:

                          Good thing Sean and her could afford a few surrogate nannies too… had thought probable Becky when she’d heard the news.

                          [¹] This was in fact a cluster of probabilities, in which forks equally disastrous had her in turn

                          • adopt a baby, but an administrative mishap has her end up, again, with a dozen of them
                          • get custody of long-lost family member’s children that her lovely maternal heart couldn’t bear to leave to the social services
                          • finding a few babies brought by mischievous storks at her doorstep
                          • ad libitum
                          #1775

                          In reply to: Synchronicity

                          F LoveF Love
                          Participant

                            Synching with T’s post about Rosie, my massage angel (well her name is Sarah really) started telling me about her puppy called Rosie yesterday, (11th April) Just noticed this was comment 257.
                            :yahoo_rose: :yahoo_big_hug:

                            Cafe with friends a short while ago – was given table number 12 again!

                            :yahoo_big_hug:

                            dreamt about a sort of portal thing last night – i would say it was a muddled mixture of a church and a cave and even a tree, it was hard to know what it was, but the person I was with was dressed in church robes, and we went up high into it till we nearly got to the top. This sort of syncs a bit with Eric’s comment I thought.

                            55 – guests invoice 255, and their black porsche convertible :yahoo_rolling_eyes: number plate 355.

                            only yellow synch i can think of, as I was walking across the park with my friends, the baby started pointing and making noises at a bright yellow plastic bag lying in the grass … apparently (and here I am going off what her mother said as I have no idea) she wanted us to pick it up and put it in the bin. ahahahahahha yeah bugger the freakin yellow !

                            The other day i spent some time googling for a particular model of coffee maker (which appears to be out of stock) … some guests had broken it and wanted to replace it. It was Breville ECM2. Then the next day as I was randomly reading things I linked onto an EFT site. It was talking about Energy and mass (and stuff) and Einstein and E=MC2 (don’t know how to do a little 2). Later I mentioned it to Eric and he found an Einstein synch. Just now I went over to a news site to look for a goat story for T, and the first thing on the page was an advertsing banner for Mariah Carey’s new album, E=MC² . Absolutely no idea of any significance to this synch however it felt sort of illuminated so I am sharing it. Now I will go and look for the goat story again.

                            Goat Story on the news last night

                            #810

                            Quite frankly, Midora didn’t know how and where to look for Badul. She had spent lots of time delving into the labyrinth of chapters that composed the book, at first to no avail.
                            Only after some familiarization with the narrative had she come to roughly understand that the two books where rewriting the pages —or even, rewiring them— so that each time she started over, it was like a similar yet different story. Most of the alternate versions did occur within the same kind of environment, or the same dimensions as the previous ones, but there were always all kinds of small hints that made her get a small hunch that it was not quite the same story she had read before that was taking place now.
                            She had even become quite good at tracking down these flimsy moments where she found herself wondering what felt “different”, at odds, or simply not quite at the same place. Like in her dreams, these were precious cues telling her to pay attention. More than simple cues, of course some of them where howling at her face that something required her attention. The additions made by her distant relative Dory, or later on by her step-daughter Becky were compelling cases of such occurrences. Asynchronous apparitions of mummies sometimes reminded her of stories told by one of her father and where more generally speaking of symbolic death and regeneration, but when all of these cues where as many portals the details of which she could lose herself in…

                            Naasir had told her to find Badul. She knew Badul… Like Midora herself, Badul was a facet of the dreaming dragon who was exploring the many facets of itself in an intricate play, and it felt to her that Badul was stuck somewhere in the process and required some attention. In fact, she remembered that in all the versions of the stories that she had read about, Badul’s history was never ended. Each time, he was on his way to explore the new land he had discovered, and somehow, he just never get there.
                            When she was trying to get to the rest of the story, as much as she would search for it, there were only blank pages.
                            Perhaps it was for her to write them, like Indy did after she encountered that mummy decades ago, not necessarily to exorcise the experience, but rather to learn more about her connections.

                            What were her own connections? She wondered.
                            What did happen to Badul on his way to the clandestine traveling portal of Gralm Tur? And why did it matter? Did he found something about the network, and some link to the skulls which have been an obsession for quite some time for some of the major and most intriguing characters of this inter-dimensional sopoohpera?

                            Truth was, Badul felt a bit like an oddball to her. She didn’t know how to get close to him. Apparently, when she had read the early articles from her great-uncle Cuthbert, she had found out that he had connected quite well to the daunting character. As a matter of fact, most of his comments had helped flesh out the character, while most of the other participants in the books had been only remotely observing his deeds. However priceless these clues were, Midora knew by now that they were not absolute, and would rewrite differently if the story was asking for it. And in fact, perhaps her own addition would change whatever his fate would have been.

                            :fleuron2:

                            Midora could feel Badul differently now… a young boy, whom she is babysitting, in another life.
                            Bastian is baby Badul’s name and he’s a toddler, a toddler exploring an unknown world made of colourful toys.
                            Midora (her name’s Ada in that focus) likes to work for little Bastian’s family. The woman, his mother, looks a bit odd like Morticia Addams, or like a Cher just out of her bed, but Ada likes her. She’s busy traveling alot, and doesn’t have much time to care for the baby.

                            Midora thinks she has read about his woman somewhere in the books…
                            Could it be that? Yes,… there is little doubt about it.
                            It seems like she’s just run into young Carla

                            #799

                            Yurick (also now spelt as Ewrick) had had great fun this week-end, each time the capricious neighbours’ baby was crying to be pampered.
                            He had finally managed, thanks to a dream crash course in didjeridoo by Yann to master (well, almost) the impressive phallic abori-genius instrument. And it was turning each annoying cry into jolly peals of hysteric laughters and groovy vibes.

                            Now what else? Dory was having an epiphany recently with all her spam box, investigating the reason of a sudden accrual of increasing size of manhood messages…

                            So far so good…

                            #780
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              Dear… And I always thought Beattie was a male name… Isn’t that funny? Al mused as he felt wrapped into the gortex (a kind of water-proof vortex specially fit for skimpy undies under torrential rains) of Becky’s thoughts…

                              Not that it mattered.

                              Albert was starting to question his own gender now… Could be another funny bodily exploration.
                              Hope Tina wouldn’t mind.

                              #1696

                              In reply to: Synchronicity

                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                Have you heard about the giant frog from Madagascar called Beezlbufo that ate baby dinosaurs?

                                I read that in the newspaper today! It sounds like one of our concoctions.

                                #1690

                                In reply to: Synchronicity

                                F LoveF Love
                                Participant

                                  Oxshift :yahoo_rofl:

                                  ahem, well for my latest synchs:

                                  I followed numberplate J533 into town this morning.

                                  Lemon synchs please see my previous comment well … i finally threw out the last of these lemons I had stored in my fridge yesterday, and thought fondly of the whole lemon synch thing. Then I noticed today that Tracy had posted the lemon tree song again in her ramblings thread. A short time later I picked up the local hawkes bay newspaper in order to peruse it, and saw that the whole front page was a picture of Noel Lucas (we don’t know him, I just include his name for accuracy) and a big heading A ZEST FOR THE BEST. Noel was holding up a lemon, which looked to be about as big as his head. It weighed 756gms.

                                  Apparently on Jan 12th there was a story of a 600gm lemon (unfortunately I missed this story .. as you can see our local newspaper is full of riveting news …) and now a lemon war has started as lemon growers vie for the biggest lemon.

                                  Noel has never fertilized his lemons and attributes it to climate changes. He has lived in the same house same house since 1983 and this is the biggest crop ever.

                                  Director of the Lemon marketing board believes the bumper crop is due to an “evolutionary leap.” hahahaha

                                  I think this is also a Nadia synch, biggest baby, biggest lemon… oh and also Hercules the biggest dog.

                                  #702

                                  There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                                  It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                                  A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                                  Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                                  Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                                  A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                                  Oh! Who’s there?

                                  A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                                  Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                                  Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                                  Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                                  Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                                  Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                                  I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                                  What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                                  Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                                  Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                                  Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                                  Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                                  Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                                  Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                                  She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                                  Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                                  Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                                  Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

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