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  • #4413
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Anna batted her eyelashes and beamed with pleasure. “Shall I sit on your knee and whisper English in your ear?”

      “Oh, I say, steady on!” replied Godfrey, reddening.

      “Sorry, sir,” Anna said quickly, “I’ll be doing the needful. Er, I mean, getting back to my work.” Mustn’t rush this, she chided herself.

      #4411
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        Anna tapped on Godfrey’s door, pushed it open a crack, and informed him that she’d locked Elizabeth in the downstairs lavatory but was unsure if she’d be able to cajole her back to her bedroom.

        “Drat!” exclaimed Godfrey, “What on earth was she doing downstairs? You know I can’t bear seeing her when she’s sick! And why weren’t you watching her as I instructed?”

        “Well, I was, sir, but I heard a commotion outside by the pool. I was on my way to investigate, when I heard a loud knock on the front door. By the time I got there, Liz had answered it, so I slammed the door shut, and locked Liz in the lavatory, and came straight here for further instructions.”

        “Who was at the door?”

        Anna hadn’t noticed, but didn’t like to say. “Oh it was someone selling toasters only.”

        #4408
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          “My key won’t work! Let me in!” shouted Finnley, banging loudly on Liz’s front door.

          She saw a slight movement at the dining room window and spun around, just in time to see the new maid’s face furtively disappearing behind the curtain.

          And then, with a shock of horror, Finnley realised what must have occurred.

          “That stupid girl can’t even cook toast! You can’t just discard me after all these years of faithful and devoted service. Goddamit let me in!

          “And,” she added loudly, “there is dust!” Finnley spat the word dust with great emphasis and contempt in her tone. “I saw it. I saw it when the curtain moved!”

          “Well,” she said eventually, “I’m not one to stay where I am not wanted!” And just as she was about to turn away, somewhat huffily, the front door opened an inch. And then stopped.

          “Finnley Finnley! is that you?” hissed Liz croakily from behind the crack.

          “Liz? “

          “Finnley, thank goodness! You’ve got to help me! I’m sick as a dog and Godfrey is no good … he is completely under the spell of that awful new … “

          Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

          #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?

              #4402
              F LoveF Love
              Participant

                (With thanks to random story generator for this comment)

                Albie looked at the soft feather in his hands and felt happy.

                He walked over to the window and reflected on his silent surroundings. He had always loved haunting the village near the doline with its few, but faithful inhabitants. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happiness.

                Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ma. He felt his mood drop. Ma was ambitious and a mean-spirited bossy boots.

                Albie gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an impulsive, kind-hearted, beer drinker. His friends saw him as an amusing foolish clown. But he was kind-hearted and once, he had even brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death.

                But not even an impulsive person who had once brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Ma had in store today.

                The inclement brooding silence teased like a sitting praying mantis, making Albie anticipate the worst.

                As Albie stepped outside and Ma came closer, he could see the mean glint in her eye.

                Ma glared with all the wrath of 9 thoughtless hurt hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I disown you and I want you to leave.”

                Albie looked back, even more nervous and still fingering the soft feather. “Ma, please don’t boss me. I am going to the doline,” he replied.

                They looked at each other with conflicted feelings, like two deep donkeys chatting at a very funny farewell.

                Suddenly, Ma lunged forward and tried to punch Albie in the face. Quickly, Albie grabbed the soft feather and brought it down on Ma’s skull.

                Ma’s skinny ear trembled and her short legs wobbled. She looked excited, her emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, rare rock.

                Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ma was dead.

                Albie went back inside and had himself a cold beer.

                #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.

                  #4400
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    Inquisitive Bert
                    A Short Story
                    by trove flacy
                    Bert had always loved rambling Fish Inn with its boiled boarders. It was a place where he felt happiness.

                    He was an inquisitive, depressed, tea drinker with skinny ears and tall sheep. His friends saw him as a moaning, mashed monster. Once, he had even saved a nasty old lady that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was.

                    Bert walked over to the window and reflected on his brooding surroundings. The rain hammered like jumping dog.

                    Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mater . Mater was a bigoted flower with attractive ears.

                    Bert gulped. He was not prepared for Mater.

                    As Bert stepped outside and Mater came closer, he could see the lovely smile on her face.

                    Mater glared with all the wrath of 1553 honest hilarious hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want information.”

                    Bert looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the new-fangled car. “Mater, I own the inn,” he replied.

                    They looked at each other with annoyed feelings, like two delicious, damaged donkey laughing at a very free house sale, which had piano music playing in the background and two sanguine uncles shouting to the beat.

                    Bert regarded Mater’s attractive ear. “I feel the same way!” revealed Bert with a delighted grin.

                    Mater looked puzzled, her emotions blushing like a loud, little letter box.

                    Then Mater came inside for a nice cup of tea.

                    THE END

                    #4399
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      FLACY TROVE COMMENT

                      “What on earth do you mean, Bert?” asked Mater. She sounded a tad irritated and stared at Bert intently for a few moments. “Are you losing your mind perhaps?” she said in a more conciliatory tone.

                      Bert glared at her. “YOU know, Mater. If anyone knows it is MY inn, it is you.”

                      “I have no idea what you are talking about!” said Mater backing away from Bert nervously. “And you will have to excuse me but my bladder calls!” And Mater sprinted inside at great speed. Faster than the speed of light, said Devan later when he recounted the story to Prune.

                      “The inn is mine and you can’t sell it!” shouted Bert after Mater’s retreating back. He grabbed the FOR SALE sign and threw it violently into the bushes.

                      #4397
                      TracyTracy
                      Participant

                        “How’s the new dog settling in, Ma?” asked Albie, playing for time.

                        “Oh, she’s doing fine, don’t you worry about that, and don’t try and change the subject!” retorted Freda. “Lottie told me all about it this morning. You had one job to do, one job!”

                        “That’s what Lottie said,” replied Albie, looking down at his shoes and halfheartedly attempting to knock the dried mud off them on the chair leg. “Sorry, Ma,” he added sadly. “Shall I take the new dog for a walk?”

                        Freda sighed. “Oh alright then, but don’t let her off the lead. And make sure you get back before the rain. And stop kicking mud all over the floor!”

                        #4396
                        TracyTracy
                        Participant

                          “You had one job to do! One job!” Alex’s mother shouted at him. “One job, that could hardly have been any easier for a shiftless layabout like you, and you balls it up!”

                          “Oh Mom, it was so boring! Sitting there for years and nothing ever happened! And we only left once, it was such rotten timing…”

                          “You were supposed to stop that kind of thing ever happening and now its too late. You and Albie will never get another job now.”

                          “Well actually you’re wrong, mother. I have been offered a job with the guys who planted all that funny stuff all around the entrance. It involves travel and adventure, they said, and good money, better money that a guard makes!”

                          “Oh, dear god,” replied Lottie. “Please say it isn’t true.”

                          #4395
                          Jib
                          Participant

                            Daisy the dung beetle’s daughter applauded when she finished her creation. She had completed a big mandibala of coloured sand, patiently extracted the previous years from dungs her uncle had brought back form the outside world. He had said some of it came from a faraway land where their ancestors had been worshiped by giants. Daisy had tried to imagined being worshiped, but her limited experience of life and of the world made her Goddess dream short lived.
                            But what she liked most was that she could put all those pieces of faraway lands in her own composition. She looked at the result, satisfied. At a certain time, she knew a cone of light from outside the Doline would come directly warm her mandibala and her wish to see the outside world would be granted.

                            #4394
                            ÉricÉric
                            Keymaster

                              For the festival of lights, the sleepy guard had all dressed up in their traditional pajams and were extolling psalmodies in longing voices.

                              Small bells rang in clusters of lighthearted peels, soon covered by the deep lingering sounds of the foghorns echoing along the rocky slopes muffled out by the abundant vegetation.

                              Expectation was in the air.

                              #4393
                              TracyTracy
                              Participant

                                They have entered, now peace is all shattered,
                                And the quiet was all that had mattered,
                                But alas that is over,
                                And blown is my cover,
                                And I’m sulky and not feeling flattered.

                                Petra was scribbling furiously in her expedition notebook, not wanting to forget the exact wording of the curious message she had received on waking from her nap behind the rocks. It was not the first time she had heard telepathic messages in rhyme, and wondered briefly about the possible connections, but then Lillianne woke up farting dreadfully, and she was distracted.

                                #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!”

                                    #4390
                                    F LoveF Love
                                    Participant

                                      “She found the entrance, you say?”

                                      “I am afraid so. I am sorry indeed to say that this is the case.”

                                      “How could she have found the way in? Where were the guards? And who is she who would dare to enter the Doline?”

                                      “It’s been so long … I think the guards got lazy. And who can blame them … so many years they stood at their post and nobody even trying to find the way in. I think they got tired of waiting for something to happen. And as to who it is … all I have heard is she is a traveller and not anyone from the Village. A traveller from far off parts, I have heard.”

                                      “Dearie me … always the way, isn’t it? Heads are going to roll of course and I wouldn’t want to be in their shoes. What’s going to happen now?”

                                      “It’s very hard to get someone out once they have found the way in. That’s a well known truth.”

                                      “It is indeed. Indeed it is.”

                                      #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.

                                        #4385

                                        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                                        TracyTracy
                                        Participant

                                          leaving gardener
                                          doctor pull potions
                                          whatever hold threads
                                          potion holding memory dreaming spot
                                          book present
                                          making rude names fear round

                                          #4381
                                          Jib
                                          Participant

                                            Liz’s smile melted away when Roberto entered the living room, he was covered in dust and spider webs. What flustered her most wasn’t the trail of dirt and insects the gardener was leaving behind him, but that he was not in India.

                                            Liz threw knives at Godfrey with her eyes, a useful skill she had developed during her (long) spare time, but he dodged them easily and they sank straight into the wall with a thud.
                                            Finnley rolled her eyes and ordered one of the guy from the TV crew to take the knives off the wall. “Don’t forget to repaint afterward”, she said with a satisfied smile.

                                            Godfrey leaned closer to the door. Liz felt words of frustration gather at her lips.

                                            “I think I slept too much long,” Roberto said with his charming latino accent. At that time, Liz could almost forgive him not to be in India. “Funny thing is I dreamt I was doing yoga in India, near Colombo.”

                                            Godfrey raised his eyebrows and gave Liz a meaningful look, telling he had been almost right all along. He relaxed and smirked. She hated it.

                                            “Well, that must be a clue”, Liz said with a look at the butler. “Godfrey, Roberto needs to be in India, and we need to go with him. Book the plane tickets.”

                                            “Well, technically, Colombo is in Sri Lanka, not India,” said Finnley.
                                            “Small detail,” countered Liz.

                                            “What do I do with the knives?” said the TV crew man.
                                            Liz looked at the knives, then at Godfrey.
                                            “I’ll take them back, they can always be useful where we are going.”

                                            “What about the interview?” asked the woman from the TV.
                                            “We’ll need a charter,” said Finnley who liked very much to give orders.

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