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  • #2255

    Perhaps I will ask Mr Ark about “Eau de Nil” mused Lavender later that evening to Harvey.

    Lavender your musing is really getting irritating. Can’t you ponder or something instead?

    Well your nasal twang gets on my nerves but do I complain? retorted Lavender, snarkily, hurt by the unexpected outburst from her friend.

    #2608

    In reply to: Strings of Nines

    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Becky was liking her dancing courses; there was this funny guy with an outrageously bright canary yellow shirt and a funny accent who taught them some Asian-based moves last time, and she’d been puzzled for awhile, frozen in her tracks and speechless for a moment (which didn’t often occur), as the guy was so weird and yet serious looking that she didn’t know if she should laugh hysterically at his preposterous wiggling butt moves, or keep serious like the others.
      That’s where she noticed a girl in the class. Like her, she was lost in wonderment while all of the others where respectfully following the teacher’s movements with a polite straight face.

      As she was feeling bubbles of hysterical laughter desperately struggling to burst at the surface, she quickly exited the classroom, only to find that the other girl was there too.

      “Ahaha, is he some sort of wacko or what?” Becky couldn’t help but laugh even if the other one seemed affected somehow, yet not indifferent to the humour of the situation.
      “Bloody oath, yeah… Madder than Almad this one”
      “You’re not from here are you?” Becky asked, noticing a delicious variation of British accent in the girl’s voice.
      “No, from New Zealand. Name’s Tina, Tina Prout. Well you can forget the last name anyway, I’m going to change that.”
      “Delighted, I’m Becky Vane. Would you fancy some vegemite on toast?”
      “Sure, let’s get out of here quickly.”
      “Toot toot! School’s out!… Mmm, looks like it’s ‘pissing down’ outside… Is that how you say in Kiwi?”

      #2564

      In reply to: Strings of Nines

      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Yoland woke up feeling lighter somehow. The sun was shining, the young puppy, Phunn, scampered about without a care in the world as she perused the morning mail. The random daily Circle of Eight’s quote once again delighted her, synchronizing with her recent meditation.

        Fiona woke suddenly from a dream. In her dream she had been communicating with her online friends, through drawings and messages. She had been trying so hard to convey something, and the more she tried to say it, the more distant they felt to her.

        She had woken feeling saddened. Her energy was greatly disturbed, and, unable to get back to sleep straight away, she meditated. She felt herself connect with the energy of a Snowy Owl, who invited her wordlessly to ask her questions. The Owl’s eyes seemed to have such a depth of wisdom and kindness, and no sooner had her thoughts begun to ask their questions, than she would feel the Owl’s answer merge with her own knowing.

        She felt herself being able to say without words what she had tried so hard in her dream to convey, and understanding there was no need for any effort, she felt greatly comforted, and peaceful sleep swept over her again.”

        Yoland had sent an email to her freind KX about her meditation, as her freind had unexpectedly popped up in it, in a wonderful pastel watercolour world:

        The elevator stopped with a shudder and the doors slammed open. The landscape looked a bit too airy fairy for me (not real enough, haha!) and I nearly got back in the elevator. It was all aqua blue and pastel and floaty, like a watercolour world. Then I saw you, waving your arms around, painting the air with trails of pastel colours with your fingertips. You were smiling and wearing a pale blue shirt. You wrapped me round with spirals of colours from your fingertips and then I flew upwards into the dark blue. You tossed me a paper toilet roll to use as a silver cord, which I tossed back to you after a bit cos it felt a bit silly, and then you sent a burst of colours as an acknowledgement

        KX had responded:

        Yoland!!That is very very cool! I’ve been “out there”! I’ll bet you I was changing the toilet paper roll at the moment you were in the Watercolor World ! Meanwhile so many things are coming together for me in how to create and how to hold my attention where I want it… Imagination is a key ~ Love you! I will beam over in a minute. KX”

        Smiling, Yoland checked the latest blog updates. Sahila had posted some Possum photos, and the first thing that Yoland saw was the white owl in the fork of the tree behind the possum.

        :creating_magic:

        #2221
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          In many ways Sally Tattler felt herself to be the antithesis of her twin sister, Ann. Tall, where Ann was short. Well groomed, where Ann’s grooming, quite frankly, left much to be desired. Organised, as opposed to the state of chaos that Ann….

          Oh for the love of God, Sally. Will you be quiet and stop messing with my head!

          The downside of being a twin, mused Ann, well, one of the many downsides it could perhaps be said, was the ability to hear each other’s thoughts so clearly. It was a shame of course that Sally had such a high opinion of herself, unwarranted …

          unwarranted! pffft to that! Ann felt a burst of energy from her indignant sister.

          Well, anyway, for today at least Ann felt sustained by her daily Eremus Lemon reading, and impervious … well nearly … to the telepathic barrage of negativity from her twin sister.

          we’re all nuts anyway; different flavours thereof, but nuts nonetheless, peanuts, peacan or up the wall-nuts

          Up the wall-nuts! Humorous as well as wise! Ann shook her head in awed admiration.

          #1149
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Georges and Salome’s journal

            From Salome’s account of her introduction to the Turmak People (Part 2)

            Once Cil and I arrived on the Murtuane the most obvious thing to be noticed was that the situation was of great complexity, with far-reaching potential implications.

            There was this thing about the Murtuane which was not easily seen with the eyes —but somehow with appropriate shift of one’s attention could be felt to some degree. It was that this part of the dimension (this planet in simpler words) was acting like a form of capacitor which would help regulate the outbursts of energy in various directions of the dimension, namely the Duane —which was more diverse, and more versatile in its types of experimentation.
            Usually, Cil had explained, most of the outbursts occurred on the Duane, and they were mitigated by the underlying presence of the balancing energies of the Murtuane.
            Most of the inhabitants of the Murtuane were very peaceful beings, mostly due to either their shared telepathic and empathic bond (Children of Turmak), or else to their nurturing societal structure (Zentauras and Children of the Sea).

            But here, something unprecedented had occurred on the farthest parts of the lands, near the Kandulim shores. A Daughter of the Sea, a representative of the Zentauras had explained, had broken her bond to the Sea to live with someone she had rescued. This in itself which should have been a private matter of the Race of the Sea had become also a thorn in the hoof of the Zentauras, as the couple had not only started to live on the Kandulim, but they also had come to rally more people around themselves, claiming a rightful place to live on their sacred soil.

            The disruption didn’t suggest any foul-play from outside forces, yet Cil and I quickly got that feeling that there is more at play that meets the eye…

            ( Part 3 )

            #1058

            She had to hold her breath a few seconds more…
            Very few seconds…
            Another one… Oh by the Elder gods! what was this all about the time was stretching like an old rubber bag and she was about to burst out… sshitty lack of air!

            Calm down Phoebe. You can do it… WHERE IS THE SURFACE!?

            All of a sudden she realized she had lost her beautiful motorbike for good — one that took her years to find, and a few more years to insufflate its little particularities.

            Oh! MERDE!

            Another memory of her time at the Moulin Rouge…

            I lost the wand again…

            But that wand was a bit more special than her motorbike. Soaked with ancient magic from another dimension… A bit like that ring in that dimension… She shivered… her small intrusion in that one sufficed to disgust her… That giant spider… what was her name again? Well the name won’t help her surface and breathe… She remembered… she had stolen an egg from that spider… she had to get rid of it very soon afterward in a garbage dimension, but…

            What is this light… and where is the direction of the surface… it was like she was floating in no space, no gravity…
            That’s not gooood…
            I’m loosing…

            :fleuron:

            …conscious…

            :fleuron:

            …Nessy!

            A big flushing sound and she could breathe again… it was painful as the water in her lungs was looking for a way out.
            Coughing and aching… She had no idea of the boundaries of her bodies as she was as wet as the ocean…
            But her friend of old times had saved her! She never regretted to help her in her youth, during a trip to Scotland…
            The contact of the… cold skin?
            It was a bit too cold to be her friend… and it sounded quite metallic.

            — Oye! Therrre you arrrre!

            What was that again!? A submarine? A Russian accent?
            She couldn’t accommodate her vision, she was still too busy to breathe loudly.

            — Deaaarrrr Pheobe! The Barrrron told me you’d be therrrre.

            Pavel Orgeanov!!! Oh not him now! He was the last one she expected to meet.

            #974

            Malvina is outpouring love, sighed Leormn happily to Arona, with a little smile on his face.

            Arona rolled her eyes. Hmmph, well that is all very nice, but meanwhile I can’t get into the damn cave, which, quite frankly Dragon, would not worry me other than I am anxious to locate my friends.

            And then she burst into loud sobs.

            I have had a gutsful of you and Malvina and your shifting of things, she managed to gulp out eventually. Shifting this, shifting that! and nothing looks any better after all the damn shifting. I mean what on earth is the point of it?

            :yahoo_crying:

            #952
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Primary Becky, for the first time in decades, felt completely relaxed. Suddenly free of all responsibilities, she lost all sense of linear time, and lost all sense of meaningfulness. She felt as though she had suddenly burst through the imposing double doors of logic, continuity, and meaning, into a vividly colourful world of meaningless nonsense. With no structure or no meaning, no commitments, no limpet- like others, she felt a liberation that was beyond meaningless words and explanations.

              As the doors of meaningfulness flung wide the dazzling light of The Elsespace Arrangement flooded over her, causing a temporary tottering in her frivolous teetering sandals. Whoa! she exclaimed, grabbing the doorframe to steady herself. With a meaningless whoa, an equally pointless wow, and a quick glance back over her shoulder at Meaningwhere (which looked dreadfully constraining and complicated from this new perspective), Becky entered The Elsespace Arrangement.

              #934
              ÉricÉric
              Keymaster

                New Venice, March 2034

                After so many “haven’t been on my honeymoon yet!” ( ¹² ) , Becky was relieved to see that she had fast-forwarded time so nicely that, finally, in a few hours of time now, they would depart for Sri Lanka.

                Of course, the last events with her wavering in different probabilities, and manifesting more of what she had tried —almost by reflex— to avoid were still on her mind. She had felt a bit sorry for Sean, but she knew all along that the choices were hers, and worrying unduly about others, even if that was about her dear spouse, wouldn’t be efficient at all, needless to say not even slightly helpful.
                She had to concentrate more on the way she wanted to express herself. That way, she knew she would draw to her the perfectly appropriate situations —while the less than appealing stuff would recede in the background under a good dose of acceptance fairy dust.

                Though still a bit weary of her unexpected pregnancy from a future traveler who hadn’t even had the tact to propose her to elope with him, her minds were fresh and excited as ever at the thought of hopping like a daft goat on the Lion’s Rock in Sigiriya. And her good mood seemed to have an infectious effect on Sean who hadn’t even inquired of what local liquor there would be on the island. Perhaps the aura of the spiritual region had already blessed Sean with some renewed optimism.

                As she was fondly stuffing her skimpy honeymoon outfit in the already ready to burst piece of luggage, she smiled blissfully, remembering all of a sudden how she had forgotten to be gentle with herself these past few days, and how nice it was to treat herself with shiny and twinkling shards of spicy new adventures.
                She could indeed feel the excitement of doing some psychic archeology (as her step-mother used to call that) on these spots full of collective energies that she hadn’t had the taste of in many months.

                #913
                Jib
                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…

                  #867
                  Jib
                  Participant

                    “Actually, Sam said, you are already pregnant. I don’t know if you had realized it, but it is clear in your energy. You are creating a vortex entry point in your womb.”

                    He winked mischievously.

                    “It all seems to be about influence and suggestion these days, he added with a wink. Remember, you are playing with these probabilities not because you are a victim of them, but because they present an interest to you. And remember also that they would be all actualized by one of your probable selves nonetheless.”

                    Becky did the rolling eyes, and it seemed she wouldn’t stop when Sam burst into laughter and hugged her. He kissed her swiftly and said :

                    “You can call Sean now, he understands more about it than you realize.”

                    #844

                    Hey, I’ve found a brownies carton wrap in the trash Yann!
                    Mmm, and you really think it’ll be enough? a doubtful Yann answered to Yurick
                    Oh, don’t worry, there’s also a couscous one, and an Ureu biscuit one, answered Yurick with a wide grin
                    Well, if you say so then, smiled Yann, contemplatively rolling his eyes à la Finn.

                    A few hours later, their patch-ckage solidly wrapped up, they had it sent to their friends.
                    When, in the post-office, the big black lady with piercing eyes (drôlely resembling Rita, a friend of Dory Yann had seen in a dream who went wedding dress shopping recently) asked them if there was anything of value in the package, they almost burst out laughing.
                    Yann had the mind to answer, only some stuff… as if of no consequence.

                    #2023

                    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      FULL STEAM AHEAD towards THE ISLE OF fry! THE FERRY, full TO BURSTING, felt LIKE THE FUN HAD started. THINGS began GOING TO plan (following A FEW STERN looks OFF Bea ) AND THE postBOX WAS FULL. CareFULLY CHOSEN LIGHT AND dark symbolic QUESTIONS asked BY ALL, IT seems. EMO Yellow IS THIS YEARS BLACK. I googled IT. I kept GOING spaceY AMD smiled, clearLY waiting, although THIS week IS seeing CONNECTIONS multiply ON earth: let’S show THE dance WE knew AND OPEN THE door ……:yahoo_heehee:

                      #812
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        Ella Marie put the encounter to the back of her mind, and whistled loudy and kept her eyes averted when dusting the mummy case during the following months. It wasn’t until the floods of the following spring that she heard Elioctyl’s voice again, urging her to take action, that now was the perfect opportunity.

                        Pssst! Ella! Do it now, NOW!

                        NO! shouted Ella Marie.

                        Suit yourself, Honey, replied her husband Arthur, pouring himself a cup of coffee from a thermos and screwing the lid back on.

                        Ella Marie spun round, saying HUH? Yes, I mean yes, please.

                        Arthur raised an eyebrow and tutted. You said No, Ella, who was you talking to anyway?

                        Oh Lordy, Art, I was just saying NO to all the flooding, NO more rain, and all….Ella Marie replied, but her mind was racing.

                        Art Honey, why don’t you wade round to your mothers and see if she’s ok, why dontcha, and I’ll start moving stuff up into the attic. River’s gonna burst its banks tonight, I reckon, we oughta do what we can now.

                        Don’t get lifting nothing too heavy, ya hear? Leave anything you can’t manage for me, I’ll do it when I get back, Arthur replied.

                        As soon as Art was out of the door and down the porch steps, Ella Marie raced out the back door and into the garage. The adrenaline was pumping through her veins, and she felt light as air, and fit as a twenty year old. Her flashlight beam swept the garage…she didn’t know what, precisely, she was looking for, but she knew she’d find it.

                        Aha! Ella Marie spotted a coil of washing line rope, and a tarpaulin. Stuffing the flashlight into her pocket, she grabbed the surfboard off the hooks on the wall and dragged it outside, the rope and tarpaulin under her arm. Quickly she tied the tarpaulin to the surfboard, tethering it to the garage door handle while she went back inside for the oars out of the uninflated dinghy. The flood water was past her ankles now, inching towards her knees, as she set off for the museum, pulling the surfboard behind her, thankful for the power blackout and the dark streets.

                        #750
                        F LoveF Love
                        Participant

                          I take it from that you don’t know where the wedding dress is currently. Well if you do come across it would you mind letting Felicity know. said Tina haughtily, switching the phone off abruptly.

                          Al’s words running through her head she started walking quickly nowhere in particular.

                          Tina, what’s the point of these experiments we have been doing with Becky and Sam if you are going to keep relying on the phone all the time? And why are you trying to sort out the dress for Felicity, it isn’t your problem.

                          It wasn’t the so much the words which had stung, after all he was right, it was the annoyance she thought she had heard in his voice.

                          She felt him making contact, quickly blocked, feeling too hurt to be open.

                          She knew he was tired, god knows he had put so much into the wedding preparations, as he did with all his projects. He was fast building a reputation for his ground breaking experiments with body processes. Tina loved Al whatever he looked like, which was just as well really considering some of the rather bizarre effects he managed to produce.

                          Becky had been a bit irritated with her as well, Tina you are so last decade, nay century even! she would say, rolling her large eyes dramatically. Becky too was racing confidently and exuberantly ahead. Her intriguing contributions to the reality play never failed to amaze Tina. Her own contributions felt stolid, words trapped in a big gluggy ball of last century energy, she had to work hard to extricate each one.

                          It was nearly dark, raining harder now, wind-driven rain. Tina liked it, the rain complemented her mood and disguised the self-pitying tears streaming down her face. There were very few people in the street. Just the long line of shop windows, glass faces warmly lit, overhangs offering some shelter from the rain, though it wasn’t shelter Tina was looking for.

                          Her long hair whipped around her face, wet blue satin clung to her slim frame.

                          Sam had taken off unexpectedly and suddenly to Australia. He had been gone only a few days and she missed him. Dear Sam, his wicked and irrepressible sense of humour could make her laugh even in the blackest of moods. He too was playing with new potentials, forging new and exciting paths.

                          The others are probably all communicating with their advanced telepathic skills right now, laughing at dumb old last century Tina, she thought morosely. In fact even last century I would have been so last century, judging by my spectacular lack of success at anything I have undertaken recently. A vision of her recent humiliation in the ballet dancing class sprang to mind. She winced and quickly blocked the distressing image of the dance teacher drawing her aside after class and gently suggesting she might try the Ancient Kuzhebar Motional Practices beginner’s class, to get some basic rhythm, before attempting the ballet. ….

                          An elderly woman who had disembarked at the nearby gondola stop splashed by her, and, illuminated momentarily by the street lamp, Tina felt a flash of recognition. The woman turned suddenly towards her, smiled, gesticulated with her free hand, the other was clutching a large bag, towards some distant bushes. She mouthed some words at Tina, but these were lost in the wind. Tina waved and managed a reciprocal smile.

                          She noticed a Positivity Robot parked in front of Samantha Lingerie, and found herself drawn towards it, 3D images of models wearing the latest in underwear fashions rotated in the shop’s window, their faces beaming irritatingly at her. These Positivity Robots had been all the rage in the early 2020’s, you did not see as many of them now. On impulse she stood in front of the robot, touched the screen, allowing it to read her energy. “negative 21” its glass face discreetly informed her. The words “I AM PERFECT flashed up on the screen as a suggested thought pattern to implement. Tina grimaced. I wonder how low I can make this damn thing go. The idea made her giggle and to her alarm shot the meter up to a positive 12. Bugger, a bad start!

                          What am I going to do with myself, Mr PR, if you are so positively smart?

                          I AM PERFECT…. I AM PERFECT …. I AM PERFECT ….

                          perfectly grumpy, perfectly insecure, perfectly last decade, perfectly soaked to the skin, Tina watched as the meter climbed all the way up to 55.

                          She glanced at the shop window, just as a smiling model wearing a minuscule open net dress and nun’s habit rotated by. She felt an inexplicable burst of amusement as the meter climbed to 57.

                          #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!

                          #657

                          — I wonder, Joselito
                          — What Paqui?
                          — Do you know if our room will have a view?

                          Paquita and Jose Maria had boarded an hour ago, and the plane had just taken off Heathrow airport where they had their connecting flight to Sydney (with a stopover at Tokyo) where they would finally take a tourist plane for the main Pacific island of the Tikfijikoo Archipelago.
                          There had been some fuss about a lady who was called to the gate. No wonder she got lost, Jose was thinking, with that strange numbering of gates… Any sane person would lost his or her bearings…
                          By a strange coincidence, the lady was seated on their row, and Jose Maria and Paquita had exchanged a surprised look when they had heard the name. At first they had thought that the “Ms Mavis Staples” the air-hostess was calling every minute was the same singer they were very fond of…

                          She had finally arrived, a plump sweating embarrassed woman, apologising at every steward, and looking at her sandals in a sheepish look… As soon as she had taken her seat, she’d said “excuse me” to the couple, apologising again that it was her first time in a plane and that she would likely be sleeping through the trip. A few seconds afterwards, she’d been putting on her eyes a huge yellow hand-knitted blindfold drawn from the depths of her behemothic wicker handbag with pink cats and roses decorations, and in a matter of minutes had been snoring loudly.

                          Exchanging another look of surprised consternation, Paquita and Jose Maria shrugged and almost burst out giggling.

                          — Oh look! whispered Paqui
                          — What? mumbled Jose who was starting to doze off
                          — A brochure of Tikfijikoo… Here, in her handbag…
                          — Oh dear… I guess we’ll be traveling together for another bunch of hours… sighed Jose

                          #550

                          Alarmed by the sound of the explosion, Mrs Butterbutt rushed out of her office.

                          What the hell are they doing again? If it’s these dirty sons of …

                          She censored her thought as she was about to burst out in anger, she was so focused on that prout farting Mc Gaughran that as she opened the door of the main room, her face was that of a fury…. but as soon as she saw what had happened, she heard the laugh of Little Joe followed by all the drunkards and the sissy cow boys of that town. Her loud laugh soon joined with the others… she managed to calm down and talked to the juicy Aldous.

                          — Oh you’re going to pay for all that mess, behave Mc Gaugran, you could have refrained from shitting on you!

                          She couldn’t help but burst into laughter again.

                          #543

                          The bal room was ready. Malvina was looking around and decided that all was perfect now
                          She felt the subtle ripples of her friends energy. Sam was waiting patiently their arrival.

                          The east wall just blurred and began to glow lightly of deep teal and emerald shades, blended in a beautiful and quite creative whirlpool.

                          Malvina just moved her attention on the encoding of her hair and shift slightly some hue to express a dark stary night, sparkling and full of mystery.

                          A thrill went through her body as she saw Georges and Salome emerge from the wall… and she burst into laughter at the sight of the marmoset which was looking at her with such a big smile :face-monkey:

                          Her laugh rippled through the crystals of the cave, making their light iridescent and swinging.

                          WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! A giant disco ball :bounce: just for us.

                          Georges couldn’t stop laughing and began dancing as Salome was generating a peppy and swinging music… he was all jumping and swirling, and Sam was jumping all around, barking at him with joy.

                          — What the hell, began Leörmn but he was fascinated.

                          And that’s when a wavy Irtak entered the discave with his 2 dragons… they immediately changed shape and began to swirl around with Georges, and Irtak was wondering if he was dreaming or if it was another process in his discovery… he was feeling as if he was dancing as the man-Georges. :yahoo_hypnotized: His body just started moving following the movements of Georges and they were just one.

                          #542

                          The old abbot Hrih, was coming back from the gardens of the Monastery, the soil dampened and muddied by the heavy rains of the season sticking to the sole of his sandals. Hrih Chokyam loved to be reacquainted with the rawness of nature, and the fluidity that the rain provided to the ground by transforming it into malleable mud.

                          He was bringing back vegetables for the dinner’s soup, and was amazed at the fact that even though he had felt so close to the earth, barefooted in his sandals, he had not even a drop of mud on him.

                          He had delayed his choice for much too long already, and the not so subtle pressing of his main confident Aum Geong to officially elect his successor was making him unquiet. He was deeply trustful of Aum Geog, and of his sincerity as a Holder of the clear Light that was being tapped into, channeled and refined by the Monastery’s spiritual endeavours.
                          But Hrih was feeling that Aum Geong’s views were slightly too narrow for the heavy task he was wanting him to carry on.
                          He was too good at creating structures and rules, and Hrih felt that even if all done in good intent, it would be taking the risk of chocking the great outburst of powerful energy that was lying at the very foundations of the Monastery.

                          The young man that he had noticed a few hexades1 ago, though very discreet seemed bright and very dedicated to his task. He had been greeted by all, and had soon felt at home. Franiel, as he was named, was under the tutelage of Jog Lam, a very wise (albeit young) monk that Hrih had adopted some years ago as the parents had been abandoning him a young baby at the eternally opened doors of the Monastery.

                          Hrih had made a decision. He would not play favourites. Seeing the blank black Meditation Wall, an idea crossed his mind. He would announce at the dinner that the monks willing to do it could do a short poem of 3 stanzas where they would express their highest truth on the Meditation Wall…

                          :fleuron:

                          1 On that part of the Duane (the planet where Mount Elok’ram is), time is divided in groups of six days or hexades, each being attributed to one of the Elder Gods: Ghört (Airs) Nærvel (Waters) Agnima (Flames) Selvaniel (Woods) Margilonia (Earths) and Lejüs (Forgotten). The names or the days are Ghordië, Narduë, Agduë, Seldië, Marduë, Shandië.

                          Name Element Quality Hexade
                          Ghört Airs Male Ghordië
                          Nærvel Waters Female Narduë
                          Agnima Flames Female Agduë
                          Selvaniel Woods Male Seldië
                          Margilonia Earths Female Marduë
                          (Shaint) Lejüs Forgotten Male Shandië
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