Search Results for 'finn'

“There’s a very fine line, Finnley, between feckless drivel, and fecking snivel, and to not put too fine a point upon it, it’s all fairly pointless anyway,” replied Liz, smiling amiably into the curmudgeonly scowl. “Bert will put the kettle on, I’ll call him over from the thread next door.”

“Typical!” muttered Finnley, “Never a thought about waking the poor bugger up, that it might be night time over there. Bloody inconsiderate, if you ask me.”

“Where is that darned cuppa you promised me?” grumbled Finnley. “And don’t make me talk. I hate talking.”

“Godfrey, go and put the kettle on. Finnley wants a cuppa. Finnley come and sit down and tell me all about it.”
“All about what?” asked Finnley.
“Anything, dear, just make something up. The whole world is insane, and I’ve decided that the only solution is to ..to….”
“Godfrey, don’t just stand there with your mouth open like a goldfish, put the bloody kettle on. Liz needs a cuppa,” said Finnley.

“It’s starting to look like the flashbacks are going to be more interesting than the start of the story, Liz,” Godfrey mentioned, while perusing Liz’s notes.
“Does it matter?” she replied crisply.
“What are you mumbling, Finnley? Soliloquy? What’s that?”
Finnley rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to snort lest it make her cough.

“Godfrey, I do know what a window is.” Godfrey looked a bit miffed, so Liz added, “But thank you for the informative article notwithstanding.”
Finnley snorted, which made a dreadful mess all down the front of her overall.

Sadie tucked her legs up under her body and snuggled down into the large armchair in the lounge. Her wet hair was twisted in a towel; her skin smelled like tropical coconuts from the body butter she had slathered on after her shower.

Just because no one can see me doesn’t mean I have to turn into a bag lady, Sadie told herself sternly.

She turned the television on and the wall became alive with one of her favourite home makeover programmes—a series on portable home design. With the light building materials nowadays, it was pretty common to transport the frame of a house in a backpack, just printing out the additional materials to construct it as required. Sadie set the screen to view only—sometimes it was fun to interact with the programmes, but right now she needed to think.

Her own home, built early last century in an industrial area which had long since been converted to residential housing, was sparsely furnished, but tastefully accessorised with soft colours and rich textures to give it a homely feel.

I love to touch and feel things, she thought, stroking the mossy green velvet arm of the chair.

In a world of so much clutter, her peaceful apartment was a haven of tranquility. She enjoyed silence, or maybe it was just that outside noises could so rudely interrupt the conversations going on in her head. Her boyfriend, Owen, an architect, was currently working on a big development project on Mars and not due back for at least another few months. So, other than when she was on a job, she had spent a lot of time alone lately.

She felt bad about scaring poor old Finnley, remembering her wide and terrified eyes darting around the room before she took off out the door.

She has probably gone to see that strange Elizabeth lady she works for. I hope they don’t think she is losing it and fire her.

And still no word from Linda Pol. Sadie was philosophical.

Being invisible wasn’t so bad.

Not now that she had got over the initial shock. In fact, the possibilities were starting to seem rather intriguing.

“Finnley, you’re late again” admonished Elizabeth. “And you look tired”.
“It’s complicated” Finnley said. “It’s my other job, it’s hard to explain.”
“Well if you’re too old to hold down two jobs, Finnley, perhaps you should give one of them up.”
“Are you firing me?” asked Finnley in astonishment.
It was Elizabeth’s turn to be astonished. “Certainly not! That’s not what I meant at all!”

Sadie soothed herself. It has only been 2 days. Get a grip. Your hair won’t smell yet.

She wondered whether to speak—the longing to confide in someone was almost overwhelming— and she followed Finnley, trying to pluck up courage. Not only would it be breaking protocol to give away any details of her recent mission, more importantly, she did not want to frighten the elderly woman. Instinctively Sadie knew that if there was anyone she could trust it would be Finnley, who had been through so much in her own life and surely, innately perhaps, understood and accepted those things outside the established norm.

“Finnley.” she spoke softly. “It is me, Sadie. I am not sure how to … I am here, but you can’t see me. Please don’t be frightened. Let me explain. It will make sense …. well sort of.”

it will make sense?

“Sadie? Where are you? What’s going on?” Finnley’s frail voice faltered and Sadie wished she could reach out and reassure her.

“Maybe you should sit down.”

Noticing the distinctive odour of unwashed hair, Finnley looked around cautiously. Perhaps there was an intruder hiding somewhere. Of course, Finnley reasoned, it could be that Sadie had returned early, and had brought an unsavoury visitor with her who had left the lingering, but never the less pungent aroma. It surely couldn’t be Sadie, who was usually so scrupulously clean and sweet scented. Unless Sadie was poorly and had been too unwell to bathe.

Her concern about Sadie over riding her fear of a possible intruder, Finnley checked the bedroom, calling out softly to Sadie, but there was no sign of her in there. Next she checked the bathroom, tapping gently on the closed door, and then cautiously pushing it open when she had no reply.

Eventually, after checking everywhere and finding no sign of Sadie or any indication of an intruder, Finnley decided she was being over anxious ~ Sadie must have had a guest, and they had recently left the building together. She started to clean, methodically and efficiently. But her unease escalated as the more she cleaned, the stronger the smell of unwashed hair grew, and she was unable to pinpoint where the smell originated from ~ it seemed to be moving around, following her.

Sadie put on a jacket. She wasn’t cold but she found it fascinating to watch the jacket disappear as it made contact with her body. It wasn’t instantaneous, rather, it seemed to slowly dissolve. The colours faded first and then the fabric began to disintegrate until there was nothing visible. She stroked her arm and was relieved to feel the softness of the fleece jacket.

Everything I touch, disappears. But it is still there.

She checked her messages. Still nothing.”What the fuck are you doing, Linda Pol?”

A soft click of the front door latch alerted Sadie that someone was entering her apartment. It was Finnley, her cleaner.

Of course, she is not expecting me to be back yet!

Sadie resisted the urge to call out. Finnley was an unusual lady— rumour had it that she had been abandoned by her mother at birth and raised by rats—however she was an excellent cleaner. Sadie watched as Finnley entered the hall, stopped and sniffed, as though aware of her presence. She had a flash of anxiety, wondering if her unwashed hair smelt.

It wasn’t important to the techromancer how long he had been living in this hut in Hawaii. A very special hut connected to many realities and times at once, a perfect representation of his mind. People would get lost in it, they did not understand how it worked. He just had to emit the intention of whenre he wanted to be and let his body follow the sound patterns. It worked very similarly to that sarcophagus in Giza. He helped in its making.

For now, he simply wanted to take a bath. He didn’t like being in contact with too much light, which always triggered a benign itching, soon spreading across his pale skin, erupting in red patches that only long immersion in water would sooth. His little sister used to say he was a dollfinn. It seemed strangely distant and yet close to this time-space reality.

The roughness of his rags didn’t help with the itching. He liked to think of them as his Jedi costume. The fabric, plain and rough, helped him remember that he was also made of flesh. A most difficult idea to keep in mind, as his was expanded in many times and realities at once. It helped cover his pale skin from light contact as well as create an aura of mystery with the few people who managed to find him. He had been most surprised by the last one, Sadie was her surface name. Memories of futures past rushed through his mind hut, momentarily disrupting the sound flux leading to the bathroom, and amplifying the itching. Now was not the right time and place.

Darkness and stillness are the basic components of awareness, he focused on that simple thought that would bring him peace and stability of mind. Keep the floughts away. It was easy to understand that for him darkness was as light is for us.

The bathroom he had chosen was in almost total darkness, for us. Even if it had a window, it was night outside. The window was only for the gentle breeze. He didn’t need light as his inner vision could see the patterns of movements of his reflected mind. He took off his rags. In the absence of light, his pale silhouette was almost glowing. The patches of red now looked like continents on a ocean of milk. One could notice a dark spot on his sacral bone. The tattoo of a black scorpio with a red dot. Red was also the color of his eyes. He was an albino, with red eyes like a rabbit.

He sank into the water with a gush of pleasure piercing through his mind. The multidimensional walls of the hut trembled.

“Sadie! psst!” Pseu whispered. “Come with me while they’re getting prepared, they’ll be ages sorting those hoops and bums out.”
“Where are we going?”
“To the Estate, I want to show you the new KILT tiles and the links to the thread in 2014.”
“But I’m having enough difficulty keeping the threads of this thread in order, Pseu, really!”
“They’re connected, it will all start to make sense, trust me!” Pseu replied. “Finn the whale has just made an appearance: in the Gibraltar waters.”
“How can that possibly be connected to Versailles?” Sadie looked unconvinced.
“Trust me” repeated Pseu. “It will become clear when you’ve seen the new tiles.”

“Brown sauce attack, notwithstanding, nothing is as important as that I feel good,” Finn said.

“Oh, yes,” Finn agreed politely. “You start the new threads Annabel. I am busy waiting on the corner at the moment.”

“I think, and I am sure that Finn(ley) will agree, that what is needed for this fish(y) net is a new thread, or two or three” remarked Annabel to Finn(ley) in particular.