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  • #480

    Did you tell them about the, you know……Paquita asked Jose, lowering her voice despite the fact that they were alone.

    What? Oh THAT. No, are you kidding? Only a stranger would agree to live in my finca, Paqui, you know that! Everyone local knows about the… you know…

    What if they find it?

    They won’t find it, Jose hoped he sounded more confident than he felt. There had been weird goings on at the finca for years; much more so lately: it was increasing. Ever since he’d found that hole in the side of the large pyramid shaped hill, there had been ghostly goings on, odd sounds, peculiar smells, flashes of coloured lights, all manner of strange and disconcerting events.

    Jose Maria was glad he was leaving. He’d miss the goats, but well, he could hardly take them with him. The goats would be ok without him.

    He couldn’t venture to say the same about the two English dears though. Time would tell.

    #477
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Paquita, I found someone to look after the goats! We can book the tickets to Tikfijikoo now!

      Paqui shreiked rather ear peircingly, and threw her arms around Jose Maria. Who? Who on earth did you find?

      Well, Jose sniggered, A couple of blousy old dears, English ones. Wanting to ‘Get away from it all’

      English! Paqui’s eyes lit up. I bet you can even charge them for doing it!

      Well, I am, laughed Jose. They think they’re getting a great deal. Haha! Jose shook his head wonderingly. Life was just getting better and better; the most unlikely and unexpected things had started happening.

      #1310

      In reply to: Yuki’s Livrary

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        October 21 st

        What’s the use of a new-born baby?

        An interesting reflection is prompted by Armelle about the need to understand things for some of our focuses.

        « I can do whatever I like with your Stories, give them any Meaning I want. It doesn’t matter… » (Armelle)
        « Of course! that is the Magic of it » (Rafaela)
        « And we can see them as Seeds. You don’t need to understand how Seeds work to have them grow » (Yuki)
        « Yes, in a wild Wilderness. A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
        « A modicum of Cooperation but largely total Freedom to make what you Want » (Rafaela)
        « It’s a repository of Energy Seeds » (Yuki)
        « A weedy, overgrown, yet mysteriously lovely Wilderness » (Armelle)
        « Yes, that too! Or,… an Eden Garden, with a hovering scaly stinky beast . May it be either an English, Chinese or French Garden, whatever pleases your tastes… » (Yuki)

        #202
        ÉricÉric
        Keymaster

          Jacqueline Bleomelen was a strict yet very affectionate nanny. Her Breton name being barely pronounceable by the English speaking kids she had at her charge, she was most of the time simply called Nanny.

          Once, one of the rude kids from a previous home where she had been serving an atrociously callous French Count, had called her an Old Gibbon, referring to her wrinkled face. But she had a very light-hearted nature, and wouldn’t show any hint of taking offense.

          Better, she liked the association with the playful and ingenious apes, and kept the moniker as it was more easily pronounced by the English kids she had in charge, and made them laugh that they could be so irreverent without facing punishment.

          For special occasions, Jacqueline was wearing a funny costume that made the children often wonder why she had put some funny hat with little moth-feelers loose on her chin, but that, she had explained was a traditional dress from her homeland of Brittany.

          Tonight, Jacqueline, or Nanny Gibbon, was having a funny dream, but perhaps that have been because she had been very excited by that excerpt she had read before going to sleep. As she was very pious, every night before going to bed, she would read a random quote of the Bible.

          Last night it had been the Old Testament, from the Book of Joshua. It was about the conquest of the Promise Land, and talked about a king from Hazor named Jabin…

          And in her dream, Jabin was a strange looking man, lost in the middle of ruins, who wanted to contact a woman about discoveries he had made in the Promise Land. He had found an entrance to a cave that had befuddled him. He hadn’t ventured too far into the cave, but anytime he had, he had found it impossibly deep and wide. So he wanted to share that discovery with that woman, but she was flying around in a parrot-coloured ballet tutu, on top of a three-humped flying camel…

          Even the rigorous Jacqueline couldn’t repress a laugh at the unlikely images that her tired mind had produced.

          #167
          TracyTracy
          Participant

            Sanso was used to travelling alone. He’d been exploring this cave on his own for several years now, and it suited him, on the whole. No need to confer, or compromise, or rush to keep up, or slow down to let others catch up. He could follow his own impulses without hindrance. He did meet others on his travels, but only at the cave entrances, or rather, the times and places that the cave entrances revealed. He never felt an urge to settle though at any of these places, always compelled to return to the caves mysterious and ever changing labyrinthine tunnels.

            The disembodied voices and coloured wispies were always with him in the tunnels. Sometimes one would be louder than another for awhile, then another would assume prominence. The bleakest coldest times were when he wasn’t noticing them; that’s when he found himself going round and round in circles, lost in the maze.

            The electric blue wispy had been around alot lately, comforting him with little explosions of pinprick blue lights, and a golden mustard yellow one. English, not French mustard, he reminded himself, although he didn’t think it mattered and wondered why he’d thought it.

            Sanso had been almost crawling for some time in a particuarly cramped and difficult tunnel; bent double for most of the time, his back was aching and he longed to stretch out. The thought of going back, retracing his steps, was unbearable, so he continued, and tried not to be discouraged.
            ‘Find something to appreciate, Appreciation is the key’ the voice of the blue wispy sounded amused, but in a kindly and endearing sort of way. Harumph, muttered Sanso, easy to say! It would help if there was something to appreciate!

            Just then Sanso heard another voice, muttering something over and over again. ‘… dragon egg dragon… egg dog egg … dragon dog egg…’ What the heck was that all about?

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