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  • Bert remembered running away when he was a kid. He had run away often. But he never got very far. They always caught him and took him back. The foster homes might look a bit different on the outside, but to him they were all the same. So he just kept running. These memories flitted through his ... · ID #3543 (continued)
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  • #4436

    In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

    TracyTracy
    Participant

      glowing fence mean visit forgotten
      felt focus sunny witch behind wisdom
      hungry stories taking early under eggs
      keep laughing carefully nature

      #4426
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Albie pondered Lottie’s words. He’d been trying to forget the doline, but now he realized he’d been avoiding the inevitable. It was no good pretending there were other jobs for him, that much was becoming clear. His mission had been to protect the doline, and he’d failed.

        Or had he? A new idea was glimmering in his mind, that he hadn’t failed at all. At first he’d been so embarrassed and anxious about the security breach that he’d only seen the obvious superficial layer of events. Yes, strangers had entered the doline; true, they were not supposed to let that happen. But now he wondered, were they strangers to the doline? Who were they? Maybe they were meant to enter, and his apparent lack of attention was a providential and timely. How did he, Albie, even know for sure that he was working for the right side? What did he really know about his bosses? And what about that handsome fellow who’d slithered out of the doline, the dark eyed one with leaves in his hair?

        Albie hadn’t even told Alex about him, not after the shit hit the fan about the breach and illegal entry. The last thing he felt like doing was admitting that there had been an illegal escape as well. But Albie couldn’t stop thinking about him, the graceful way he shook the dust out of his hair, the depths of those lustrous dark eyes, his long slender fingers….

        Now, Albie was kicking himself for hiding behind a tree, for not approaching the strange man, or at least following him to see where he was going. His job was to stop people from entering. Nobody had said anything about stopping people leaving it. It was unexpected, and he’d been scared. Was it too late to try and track his movements? He’d come out of the doline, he’d have stories to tell. Albie needed to know, he needed to find him.

        He would find a way to trace him. He wondered if the new dog could help him, if he could find something with the mans scent upon it. Albie was determined to find a way.

        #4420
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          As soon as the words had left her mouth, Lottie regretted them. She looked at Albie’s shocked, crestfallen face and knew she had been too harsh. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a writing mentor. It was a constant battle for her: should she be brutally honest and possibly save them years of misdirected effort or should she foster their creative spirit at all costs, even if it meant being dishonest? She sighed and tried to backtrack.

          “Look, Albie, there is some good stuff in here but it needs work … “

          “It’s okay,” Albie broke in quickly. “It’s fine. I knew I was no good … it’s fine. Thanks.” He gave an embarrassed laugh. “Mum has been on at me to do something since I lost my job so i thought … well, I thought I’d give writing a shot. Better stick to walking the dog, eh!”

          “Yes, you and Alex are a right pair, walking off the job like that.” Lottie shook her head, causing the thick reading glasses to slip down her long beaky nose. Lottie always wore black and she reminded Albie of a crow. He liked her though, which is why he had asked her to read his play.

          “Anyway what’s done is done.” Lottie continued. And then she hesitated for a moment, pushing the glasses back up her nose and looking down at the manuscript on the table in front of her as though weighing her words carefully before continuing. “Look, Albie, one thing I did notice in your writing was that there was a recurring theme. Perhaps your subconscious trying to tell you something. It often works like that.

          “The Doline thing?”

          “Yes,” said Lottie. “Something to think about anyway.”

          #4404
          Jib
          Participant

            Liz left her bed at 8:30am, wearing only her pink and blue doubled cotton night gown, a perfect hair and her fluffy pink blue mules. She had been thinking about her characters while the sun was trying to rise with great difficulty. Liz couldn’t blame the Sun as temperatures had dropped dramatically since the beginning of winter and the air outside was really cold.

            When Liz was thinking about her writings and her characters, she usually felt hungry. Someone had told her once that the brain was a hungry organ and that you needed fuel to make it work properly. She didn’t have a sweet tooth, but she wouldn’t say no to some cheesy toast, any time of the day.

            She had heard some noise coming from the kitchen, certainly Finnley doing who knows what, although certainly not cleaning. It might be the association between thinking about her characters and the noise in the kitchen that triggered her sudden craving for a melted slice of cheese on top of a perfectly burnished toast. The idea sufficed to make her stomach growl.

            She chuckled as she thought of inventing a new genre, the toast opera. Or was it a cackle?

            As she was lost in her morning musings, her mules gave that muffled slippery sound on the floor that Finnley found so unladylike. Liz didn’t care, she even deliberately slowed her pace. The slippery sound took on another dimension, extended and stretched to the limit of what was bearable even for herself. Liz grinned, thinking about Finnley’s slight twitching right eye as she certainly was trying to keep her composure in the kitchen.

            Liz, all cheerful, was testing the differences between a chuckle and a cackle when she entered the kitchen. She was about to ask Finnley what she thought about it when she saw a small person in a yellow tunic and green pants, washing the dishes.

            Liz stopped right there, forgetting all about chuckles and cackles and even toasts.

            “Where is Finnley?” she asked, not wanting to appear the least surprised. The small person turned her head toward Liz, still managing to keep on washing the dishes. It was a girl, obviously from India.

            “Good morning, Ma’am. I’m Anna, the new maid only.”

            “The new… maid?”

            Liz suddenly felt panic crawling behind her perfectly still face. She didn’t want to think about the implications.

            “Why don’t you use the dishwasher?” she asked, proud that she could keep the control of her voice despite her hunger, her questions about chuckles and cackles, and…

            “The dirty dishes are very less, there is no need to use the dishwasher only.”

            Liz looked at her bobbing her head sideways as if the spring had been mounted the wrong way.

            “Are you alright?” asked Anna with a worried look.

            “Of course, dear. Make me a toast with a slice of cheese will you?”

            “How do I do that?”

            “Well you take the toaster and you put the slice of bread inside and pushed the lever down… Have you never prepared toasts before?”

            “No, but yes, but I need to know how you like it only. I want to make it perfect for your liking, otherwise you won’t be satisfied.” The maid suddenly looked lost and anxious.

            “Just do as you usually do,” said Liz. “Goddfrey?” she called, leaving the kitchen before the maid could ask anymore questions.

            Where was Goddfrey when she needed him to explain everything?

            “You need me?” asked a voice behind her. He had appeared from nowhere, as if he could walk through the walls or teleport. Anyway, she never thought she would be so relieved to see him.

            “What’s that in the kitchen?”

            “What’s what? Oh! You mean her. The new maid.”

            He knew! Liz felt a strange blend of frustration, despair and anger. She took mental note to remember it for her next chapter, and came back to her emotional turmoil. Was she the only one unaware of such a bit change in her home?

            “Well, she followed us when we were in India. We don’t know how, but she managed to find a place in one of your trunks. Finnley found her as she had the porter unpacked the load. It seems she wants to help.”

            #4403
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              random plot generator

              A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

              Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

              ALBIE
              Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

              JENNY
              I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

              ALBIE
              I am such a person!

              JENNY
              I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

              JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

              Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

              ALBIE
              Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

              MATT
              I’m afraid not.

              ALBIE
              What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

              MATT
              It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

              ALBIE
              Defenseless elderly ladies?

              MATT
              Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

              ALBIE
              Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

              MATT
              I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

              ALBIE
              You can start by telling me where this happened.

              MATT
              I was…
              MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

              ALBIE
              Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

              MATT
              The Library! That’s right – the Library!

              ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

              EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

              ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

              INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

              ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

              ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

              MATT
              What is is? What’s the matter?

              ALBIE
              That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

              MATT
              Who’s Roger Blunder?

              ALBIE
              Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              MATT
              Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              ALBIE
              You can say that again.

              MATT
              Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

              ALBIE
              I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

              Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

              ROGER
              Albie Jones, we meet again!

              MATT
              You’ve met?

              ALBIE
              Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

              EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

              A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

              He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

              ROGER
              Would you like some wine gums?

              ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

              ALBIE
              I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

              ROGER
              Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

              ALBIE
              Wait, you’re a hooligan?

              ALBIE runs away, screaming.

              INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

              ROGER
              You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

              MATT
              (To ALBIE) You ran away?
              ALBIE
              (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
              ALBIE turns to ROGER.

              ALBIE
              I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
              ALBIE runs away.

              He turns back and shouts.

              ALBIE
              I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

              ROGER
              I’m not scared of you.

              ALBIE
              You should be.

              INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

              ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

              ALBIE
              I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

              MATT
              Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

              ALBIE
              You know nothing Matt Humble.

              MATT
              We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

              Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

              ROGER
              Looking for something?

              MATT
              Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

              ALBIE
              Tell me something I don’t already know!

              MATT
              The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

              ALBIE
              I know that already!

              MATT
              I’m afraid of dust.

              ROGER
              (appalled) Dude!

              While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

              ALBIE
              Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

              ROGER
              No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

              JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

              ALBIE
              I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

              ROGER
              Don’t hurt me! Please!

              ALBIE
              Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

              ROGER
              Because Albie, I am your father.

              ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

              ALBIE
              No you’re not!

              ROGER
              Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

              ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

              ALBIE
              Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

              Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

              MATT
              Did he just faint?

              ALBIE
              I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

              ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

              MATT
              Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

              ALBIE
              No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

              ALBIE
              What?

              ALBIE
              Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

              MATT claps his hands.

              MATT
              So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

              JENNY steps forward.

              JENNY
              Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

              ALBIE
              Jenny how long have you been…?

              JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

              JENNY
              Long enough.

              ALBIE
              Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

              JENNY
              Then the elderly ladies are safe?

              ALBIE
              It does seem that way!

              A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

              JENNY
              You are their hero.

              The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

              ALBIE
              There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

              JENNY
              You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

              One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

              JENNY
              I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

              ALBIE
              I couldn’t possibly.
              Pause.

              ALBIE
              Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

              ALBIE takes the ring.

              ALBIE
              Thank you.
              The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

              ALBIE turns to JENNY.

              ALBIE
              Does this mean you want me back?

              JENNY
              Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
              ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

              ALBIE
              Well you can’t have me.

              JENNY
              WHAT?

              ALBIE
              You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

              JENNY
              But…

              ALBIE
              Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

              MATT grins.

              JENNY
              But…

              MATT
              You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

              JENNY
              Albie?

              ALBIE
              I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
              JENNY leaves.

              MATT turns to ALBIE.

              MATT
              Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

              ALBIE
              Of course you are!
              The two walk off arm in arm.

              Suddenly MATT stops.

              MATT
              When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

              #4401
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Aunt Idle:

                Amazing how you can change your mind about things in the twinkling of an eye, and as I said to Bert (when he’d come down off those mushrooms or whatever was in those brownies that passing hippy gave him on the way to the guru camp over at the old copperworks place), I said to Bert, Bert I said, if you own the place lock stock and barrel, our financial worries are over. He said don’t be daft, you can’t eat the windows and doors, and what about all these dogs to feed, they can’t eat wooden beams, and I said, no listen Bert, I’ve had an idea. We don’t like banks, that’s true, and we don’t like debts, but why stand on principle and shoot yourself in the foot, I said, and I’ve heard about this thing with old people like us, that you can get the bank to give you loads of cash, and you don’t even have to pay them back until after you’re dead, and then he said, don’t be daft, how can you pay them back when you’re dead and I said Exactly, Bert! This is the beauty of it, and who knows if there will even be any more banks by the time we kick the bucket anyway, why not have our cake now and eat it, that’s what I said to Bert. And so he says, Well go on then, tell me why the bank would give us cash an I told him that they give you money because you own a house, and then when you snuff it, they have their money back. So Bert says, Yeah but they take far too much money, it’s another bank scam! And I said, Who the fuck cares, if we get the cash now when we need it? And then he said, Yeah, but what about the kids? I was gonna leave it to the kids, and I said, and I’ll be quite frank here, Fuck the kids! Who in the hell knows what the future will be like for the kids, and I told him straight: You can’t plan you’re own future, let alone trying to plan the kid’s future. Now is what matters, and right now, I need a new camera, and I need to get those tax hounds off my back. Then Bert started to smile and said, Hey, I could get me them new false teeth.

                #4392
                Jib
                Participant

                  “Tourists!” shouted Ugo the gecko to his albino friends. They all stopped and turned their heads in unison to look at the two humans who had entered the premises, inside their small chests their hearts beating fast with excitement like so many small shamanic drums that only gecko ears could hear. Ugo was so engrossed in those two humongous creatures and the hypnotic rhythm of his friends’ heartbeats that he didn’t see the suckers from his front left paw were getting loose again. They had been damaged in a fight with a twirling bat one week ago and they still hadn’t heal nicely because he didn’t care so much. Soon his left paw got detached from the ancient stones of the wall, followed by his right and soon he fell. But like he was made of sticking rubber the fall was short and he got stuck again on a lower stone, walking on the head of a few friends in the process.

                  “Sorry for that! I’ll have them checked, promise.”

                  Some of the geckos missed a heartbeat, frightened by the sudden turmoil. They ran in what might appear random directions and panic quickly spread among the albino geckolony on the wall. By a miracle of nature and because they were all so fascinated by tourists, the geckos rearranged nicely only to stop a sucking steps away and turned their head back again toward the tourists. Their hearts beating in unison again.

                  “Look! that dark wall over there with the white hieroglyphs. I’m sure it just moved!” said the tallest of the tourists. She was curious and decided to go watch by herself what that curious wall was about.

                  #4391
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    It had been a long time coming, but Lillianne had known there was no rush. There had been a flurry of interest many years ago, but nothing came to fruition. All the ingredients were there for a banquet of discovery, but no cooks to combine the ingredients successfully ~ until now.

                    They’d been very careful to cover their tracks, even laying red herrings along the way. Others were interested, they knew that, and they knew they’d been followed, sensing the lurking energy trails behind them. But the main thing was, they got there first. Now was not a time to relax, despite the urge to just pause and revel in the accomplishment.

                    “But I’m knackered, Lillianne,” whined Petra, running her hands distractedly through her tangled hair. “Surely we can take a little nap before we continue. Over there behind those rocks, look! Let’s just nip behind there.”

                    Lillianne pursed her lips. There was no point in arguing with Petra when she was tired. And the more she thought about it, the more a short rest sounded enticing. The climb down into the dense wooded gorge had been arduous, and her ankle ached where she’d twisted it on a loose rock.

                    “Come on then, but only half an hour!”

                    #4387
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      The Doline was brimming with unseen life, glistening below the twinkling star-lighted sky overhead. Albino geckos were dancing on the walls of ancient stones, while the twirling bats were hunting near the flowing streams of pristine water. Cooing late birds were singing old stories, while the scurrying rodents shuffling the leaves coverage ventured outside, carefully out of the gaze of nocturnal birds of prey.

                      There was a traveler that day who had found the entrance long forgotten. The trees had parted to let her gain access. So it began.

                      #4384
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “What we all need now”, Liz was thinking out loud, “Is a more relaxed approach. We should stop trying to be proper clever writers and just blather.”

                        “If it’s supposed to be relaxed blather, why did you just fix three typo’s?” asked Finnley, the annoying maid, who had once again been peering over Elizabeth’s shoulder, looking for something to find fault with.

                        “Oh come on, that’s a bit much, Liz!” Finnley retorted, accidentally on purpose slopping Liz’s tea into her ashtray, knowing a pet hate of hers was a wet ashtray.

                        “Do be careful, Finnely! snapped Liz.

                        “Just taking a relaxed approach to being a maid, Ma’am,” she replied rudely with a flamboyant gesture with her feather duster, which whacked Liz smartly across the back of the head as she swanned out of the room with her nose in the air.

                        #4382
                        Jib
                        Participant

                          Devan came back from Brisbane to help them plant the sale sign in front of the Inn. He was not sure how his sisters would take the thing, but the twins have been gone, and Prune was planning to go to Mars, her latest fad since she had seen a TV program about the Mars mission. Devan couldn’t believe they were talking about colonising Mars, but he couldn’t believe his family has stayed so long taking care of the old Inn.

                          #4363

                          The rain stopped as suddenly as it had begun.

                          Margoritt showed Glynis to a small area, partitioned off from the main room; a narrow bed, a tiny window to the outside and and a simple wooden shelf.

                          “You’ll be wanting some privacy,” she said. “And something dry to wear,” she added, handing Glynis a dress, plain in shape and made from a soft woven fabric, pearly spheres woven into a dark purple background.

                          The second person to give me something to wear, she mused.

                          The fabric was amazing. It made Glynis think of stars at night and the way you could never see to the end of the sky. It felt both reassuring and terrifying all at the same time.

                          There is magic in the hands that wove this, she thought, hesitant though to voice her thoughts to Margoritt, however kindly she seemed.

                          “A master weaver has made this!” she said instead. “Was it you?”

                          “No, not I … but you are right, it was made by a master … as you can no doubt see, it doesn’t fit me any longer. I’ve had it sitting there going to waste for many years and am glad to put it to use. It doesn’t cover your head like the other did, but really there is no need here.” Margoritt smiled. “Go, get changed. Come out when you are ready and I will have some tea and cake for you. Then you can meet the others properly.”

                          “Is it okay? hissed Sunny in a loud whisper when they were alone, anxiously hopping from one foot to another.

                          “Yes, i think so … I’ve been very careful,” Glynis reached in her pouch and gently pulled out an egg.

                          “It’s amazing, isn’t it … almost golden… for sure it must be the gift the man from the market promised me in my dream … the way it just sat there on the path … lucky I did not stand on it.” She stroked the egg gently.

                          “Sorry about all this, little one,” she said softly to the egg. “I wonder what creature you are inside this shell … and what safe place can we hide you till you are ready to come out of there?”

                          “I can sit on it of course,” said Sunny. “It will be my honour and privilege to assist.”

                          #4361
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            “Finnley! Finnley!” Liz’ called from her boudoir.
                            “What is happening with the ceiling? There is water dripping everywhere, it is ruining my last manuscript! You surely haven’t left a window opened upstairs, have you?”

                            She tutted, her hair in disbelief. “With that storm outside, at least that idiot Walter did well to take this ghastly frog trenchcoat back with him.”

                            She paused her litany to contemplate her latest treasure, carefully arranged at the bottom of a large envelope. Seven green potsherds sent by her old friend with a note attached: “Some patterns ideas, I’m sure you’ll know what to do with them.”

                            #4351

                            “Oh no!” Margoritt swore loudly, “not that cursed rain again!”.
                            They were about to share what was left of the cake for dessert when the first booming strike of thunder resounded violently across the mountains.

                            She cupped her hands in front of her mouth to rally the troops over the noisy rumble of the heavy dark clouds. “Inside! Everyone inside!” — when the rains started in spring, they could go on for days, drenching the countryside in curtains of water.

                            The first drops falling, quickly extinguishing the candles, Rukshan raised his head to look at the darker skies covering completely the moon’s glow “This is no ordinary rain…”

                            “You bet, it isn’t!” Margoritt said, looking more sombre than she ever was. “That magical umbrella won’t be enough this time, we are probably going to have to sit that one out inside. Help me bring the animals inside.”

                            In front of the small cottage, everyone else started to hurry inside, bringing back the plates, cups and leftovers, while Rukshan was preparing some wood for the fire to keep the moist away.

                            “Has anybody seen Eleri?” Yorath’s look was concerned. “She seem to have disappeared somewhere as usual… But she hasn’t come back yet,… and I’m afraid she took a large bite of the trancing cake too. It’s not a good night to trance out.”

                            Rukshan was torn between waiting a bit longer, or going to search for her, which would be risking lives during the dark stormy night. He was about to offer to go outside himself when Gorrash said briskly:
                            “Let me go find her, this storm is nothing, and I’m used to the dark. You all should stay inside. If I don’t come back at the break of dawn, you can go out to look for us, but don’t worry too much about me, I’ll blend in.” He winked at Fox who smiled weakly. He didn’t like this type of cold rain. Its smell was damp and rotten.

                            “Thank you Gorrash, that is very noble of you. Please, take care of yourself, and be back soon.” Rukshan said as he opened the door which was now jerking violently against the darkest night.

                            #4331

                            “What was in the bag, Finnley, tell us!”
                            Everyone was looking at the maid after the Inspector had left hurriedly, under the pretext of taking care of a tip he had received on the disappearance of the German girl.

                            Godfrey was the most curious in fact. He couldn’t believe in the facade of meanness that Finnley carefully wrapped herself into. The way she cared about the animals around the house was a testimony to her well hidden sweetness. Most of all, he thought herself incapable of harming another being.
                            But he had been surprised before. Like when Liz’ had finished a novel, long ago.

                            “Alright, I’ll show you. Stay there, you lot of accomplices.”

                            Godfrey looked at Liz’ sideways, who was distracted anyway by the gardener, who was looking at the nearby closet.

                            “Liz’, will you focus please! The mystery is about to be revealed!”

                            “Oh shut up, Godfrey, there’s no mystery at all. I’ve known for a while what that dastardly maid had done. I’ve been onto her for weeks!”
                            “Really?”
                            “Oh, don’t you give me that look. I’m not as incapable as you think, and that bloodshot-eyes stupor I affect is only to keep annoyances away. Like my dear mother, if you remember.”
                            “So tell us, if you’re so smart now. In case it’s really a corpse, at least, we may all be prepared for the unwrapping!”
                            “A CORPSE! Ahaha, you fool Godfrey. It’s not A corpse! It’s MANY CORPSES!”

                            Godfrey really thought for a second that she had completely lost it. Again. He would have to call the nearby sanatorium, make up excuses for the next signing session at the library, and cancel all future public appear…

                            “Will you stop that! I know what you’re doing, you bloody control machine! Stop that thinking of yours, I can’t even hear myself thinking nowadays for all your bloody thinking. Now, as I was saying of course she’d been hiding all the corpses!”
                            “Are you insane, Liz’ —at least keep your voice down…”
                            “Don’t be such a sourdough Godfrey, you’re sour, and sticky and all full of gas. JUST LET ME EXPLAIN, for Lemone’s sake!”

                            Godfrey fell silent for a moment, eyeing a lost peanut left on a shelf nearby.

                            Conscious of the unfair competition for Godfrey’s attention Elizabeth blurted it all in one sentence:
                            “She’s been collecting them, my old failed stories, the dead drafts and old discarded versions of them. Hundreds of characters, those little things, I’d given so many cute little names, but they had no bones or shape, and very little personality, I had to smother them to death.” She started sobbing uncontrollably.

                            That was then that Finnley came back in the room, panting and dragging the sack coated in dirt inside the room, and seeing the discomfit Liz’ with smeared make-up all over her eyes.

                            “Oh, bloody hell. Don’t you tell me I brought that dirty bag of scraps up for nothing!”

                            She left there, running for the door screaming “I’m not doing the carpets again!”

                            And closed the door with a sonorous “BUGGER!”

                            #4330

                            In the past twenty days since he got out of the forest, backtracking on his steps, Rukshan didn’t have much luck finding or locating either of the six others strands.
                            At first, he thought his best hint was the connection with the potion-maker, but it seemed difficult to find her if she didn’t want to be found.

                            So, for lack of a better plan, he had come back to Margoritt’s shack and was quite pleased at the idea of meeting the old lady and Tak again.
                            Her cottage had been most busy with guests, and in the spring time, it was a stark contrast with the last time he was there, to see all the motley assemblage she had gathered around her.

                            First, there was Margoritt of course, Emma the goat, then Tak, who was a very convincing little boy these days, and looked happy at all the people visiting. Then, there was Lahmom, the mountain explorer, who had come down from her trek and enjoyed a glass of goat milk tea with roast barley nuggets.
                            Then there were a couple of strange guests, a redhair man with a nose for things, and his pet statue, a gnome with a temper, he said. Margoritt had offered them shelter during the last of the blizzard.

                            With so many unexpected guests, Margoritt quickly found her meager provisions dwindling, and told Rukshan she was about to decide for an early return to the city, since the next cargo of her benefactor Mr Minn would take too long to arrive.

                            That was the day before she arrived to the cottage with her companion: Eleri and Yorath, had arrived surprisingly just in time with a small carriage of provisions. “How great that mushrooms don’t weigh anything, we have so many to share!” Eleri was happy at the sight of the cottage and its guests, and started to look around at all the nooks and crannies for secret treasures to assemble and unknown shrooms.
                            While Yorath explained to Margoritt how Mr Minn had send him ahead with food, Margoritt was delighted and amazed at such prescience.

                            Rukshan, for his part, was amazed at something else. There seemed to be something at play, to join together people of such variety in this instant. Maybe the solution he was looking for was just in front of his nose.
                            He would have to look carefully at which of them could be an unknown holder of the shards of the Gem.

                            He was consigning his thoughts on a random blank page of his vanishing book, not to store the knowledge, but rather to engage on a inner dialogue, and seek illumination, when some commotion happened outside the cottage.

                            A towering figure followed by a boy had just arrived in the clearing. “Witch! You will pay for what you did!” pointing at Eleri, backed behind Yorath who had jumped protectively in front of her.

                            That can’t be another coincidence Rukshan thought, recognizing the two new guests: the reanimated god statue of the tower, and Olliver, the boy who, he deduced, had managed to wake up the old teleporting device.

                            #4327

                            “Pssst Glynis, are you awake?”

                            There was no response so Sunshine, the parrot, leapt from his shelf onto the bed and nudged Glynis with his beak.

                            “Ouch! Sunshine!”

                            “I’ve got a joke for you. It’s a good one this time! You will be glad I woke you.”

                            Glynis groaned.

                            “What’s smarter than a talking parrot?”

                            “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

                            “Come on! you aren’t even trying!”

                            “Aargh. Most things are.”

                            “Oh how rude. You really aren’t at your best this hour of the night. It’s a spelling bee! Get it? A spelling bee. A bee that spells. Not that anything is really smarter than a parrot. Hmm maybe I should have let you sleep,” cackled the parrot.

                            “Extremely hilarious. Now be quiet, Sunny, and get some sleep. We have to get away extra early in the morning.”

                            #4306

                            The drizzle wasn’t meant to last. At least that’s what the smell in the air was telling Fox. With the night it was getting colder and the drizzle would soon turn into small ice crystals, and maybe worse.
                            “We should get going,” Fox said, enjoying the last pieces of rabbit stew. The dwarf had been busy looking around in the leafless bushes and behind the tree trunks. He had been silent the whole time and Fox was beginning to worry.
                            “What have you been doing anyway?” he asked. “Are you hunting? You can still have a piece of that stew before I swallow it.” He handed his bowl toward the dwarf, who grumpfed without looking at Fox.
                            “I don’t eat. I’m a stone dwarf. I think I get recharged by daylight.”
                            Gorash kept on looking around very intently.
                            “We should get going,” repeated Fox. The weather is going to be worse.
                            “Grmpf. I don’t care. I’m made to stay outside. I’m a stone statue.”
                            “Well even stone gets cracked with the help of ice when temperature drops below zero. How am I supposed to carry you if you fall into pieces,” said Fox. He thought his idea rather cunning, but he had no idea if Gorash would be affected by the bad weather or not, since he was not really like stone during the night.

                            “And what are you looking for? It’s winter, there’s not much of anything behind those naked bushes.”
                            “It’s Easter. You had your rabbit. I want my eggs,” said the dwarf.
                            “Oh.” Fox was speechless for a few moments. He too had been thinking of the colourful eggs of the dwarf’s friend they had left in the witch’s garden. He wondered what had happened to it? Gorash had been gloomier and gloomier since they had left the garden and Fox didn’t understand why. He had thought his friend happy to go on a quest and see the outside world. But something was missing, and now Fox realised what it was.

                            He didn’t really know what to say to comfort the dwarf, so he said nothing. Instead he thought about the strange seasonal pattern shifts. If it was Easter then it should be spring time, but the temperatures were still a havoc. And the trees had no leaves in that part of the forest. Fox remembered the clock tower of the city had had some problems functioning recently, maybe it was all connected. The problems with the bad smell around the city, the nonsensical seasonal changes and that gloomy quest… maybe it was all connected.

                            Fox gulped the last pieces of rabbit stew without enjoying it. He licked the inside of the bowl and put it in his backpack without further cleaning. He had suddenly realised that it was not much use to ask Gorash’s permission to leave as Fox was doing all the walk during the day anyway. So he could as well do it at night. He didn’t have as much difficulties to put out the fire as he had lighting it up. He cleaned the place as much as he could and then looked around him. The night was dark, the drizzle had turned into small snow flakes. Fox smelled the air. It would soon turn into bigger flakes. The dwarf could stay outside if he wanted, but Fox needed to move. Let him follow if he wants to.

                            #4296

                            That night Glynnis had a strange dream. She knew that it was no ordinary dream and in the morning diligently recorded it in her dream journal.

                            I was walking on a windy path through the forest. A young woman with bizarre hair and a cackling laugh appeared before me, blocking my path.
                            “Tell me your name!” I commanded.
                            “My name is Eleri, and I have a parrot to accompany you on your journey.”
                            “A parrot! What would I do with a parrot?”
                            “This is no ordinary parrot. This parrot can tell jokes,” responded the woman.
                            “A funny parrot! Well why didn’t you tell me that in the first place. Give me the parrot and I will be on my way.”
                            “Hold your horses. It’s not such an easy thing as that,” said the woman. “It never is you know. First you must tell me what is going on.”
                            I sighed and handed her a manuscript. “Read this a dozen times and all will be made clear.”
                            A look of petulant fury distorted the young woman’s face.
                            “ Tell me what is going on, you rude tart!“ she said crossly.
                            Here is what I told her:

                            Glynnis is a young woman living in the enchanted forest in an abandoned mansion. She practices magic and has a great affinity for nature. She also has the face of dragon after she annoyed a powerful sorcerer. She is being troubled by dreams which seem to be calling her on a mission—the purpose of which she is unsure. Glynnis sells her potions at a stall in the city. One day she finds a map hidden behind a painting and knows that she needs to follow the path shown on the map.
                            Rushkan is fae. He works as the city ‘chief overseer’ looking after the clock tower. He isn’t that keen on his job. Rushkan has a half-formed vision to assemble a team but for what purpose he is not sure. He has also discovered something worrying, dark even, about the clock tower.
                            One day, Rushkan uses his magic to call for an Oliphant. He packs a small bag of belongs and departs on a journey. Before departing, he leaves a gift for Olliver, the office errand boy.
                            Rushkan is a little irritated to find that the forest has been fenced off and a toll-booth erected—who wouldn’t be annoyed by this needless bureaucracy? Anyway, after farewelling the helpful Oliphant he continues his journey on foot.
                            He hears a cry for help and comes across a dying Gibbon. The Gibbon entrusts her infant to his care. He takes the baby—named Tak—to an old woman who lives in a lodge close to the Dragon Heartwood: Margoritt Loursenoir, a writer. It seems Tak is a shape-shifter and can also take the form of a child. Perhaps that is his true form. Rushkan stays with Margoritt for a while to recoup but it isn’t very long before he feels compelled to continue his journey to find the hermit, Kumihimo,in the forest. Kumihimo seems to be weaving seven braids.
                            To get to the hermit Rushkan has to cross Fae land. He isn’t overjoyed about this because he has left the ‘old ways’ of his people. Rushkan has to declare his presence to the Fae people—it’s a rule. The Queen is a bit annoyed because her empire is not as powerful as it once was and she has had to use precious resources to protect Rushkan on his journey. Anyway, she doesn’t stay uppity for long and ends up in bed with him.
                            Gorash is a dwarf statue who abides in the grounds of the deserted mansion in the enchanted forest. At night he comes to life. He has a friend called Rainbow. Gorash assists Rainbow in stealing Glynis’s magic potions and they make seven colourful eggs which Rainbow is infatuated with.
                            Mr Fox lives in a hut outside the city walls. At sunset he can shapeshift into a fox. He prefers being in animal form. Fox is quite a character. Not much gets past him.
                            Fox’s master is a Gibbon who taught him how to shapeshift. After going on a journey into the forest to find Gibbon, Fox is told that it is time to learn the wisdom of the Heart. Gibbon gives Fox an assignment: “You’ll find a lost soul in the enchanted forest. Bring it back to its rightful owner. Then you shall find your master.”
                            Fox goes back to the mansion in the deserted forest just as Glynnis is leaving on her journey. He befriends Gorash who has become increasingly lonely since Rainbow now has the eggs.

                            “That’s brilliant,” said the woman called Eleri. “You should probably get lots of points for doing that.” She gave one more loud cackle and shouted: “I am off to pick some mushrooms. You will find the parrot when you wake up from this crazy dream!”

                            #4288
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              “Jingle has always been very precocious” her proud grandmother, Mrs Bell told Liz and Godfrey over nougat and peanut cakes. “She has read all your books so many times, and really was ecstatic that you agreed to have her for a couple of weeks.”
                              Ms Bell smiled at Godfrey “Obviously, it has nothing to do with it, but here is a generous donation that should more than cover the meals and lodging.”

                              “As well as a score of bills fallen behind, I reckon” thought Godfrey while smiling at the oddly bespectacled and bejewelled woman, while grasping the edge of his seat in case Liz’ would realize it would mean to have a moody teenager over the manoir for the next days.

                              “It is our dear pleasure to have this darling child,” Liz’ spontaneous answer astonished Godfrey by her graciousness. “Our Finnley will take care of her, she knows the ropes of writing better than my ropes of drying laundry, if you know what I mean huhuhu.”

                              Mrs Bell nodded with a look of lost perplexity on her smiling face.

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