-
AuthorSearch Results
-
December 21, 2007 at 5:40 pm #596
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Poêléed foie gras, goat tagine, roquette fig salad, sherry trifle, serrano ham, lobster in ginger…..
Manon was going over her holiday menu and lists, wondering how on earth she would manage to cater for all tastes. What a houseful it was going to be.
…..scallion soy sauce, steak and kidney pie, wild mushroom soup, ostrich fillets with dauphine potatoes, rhubarb crumble….
…..Cuthbert! OY! Manon grabbed the boy as he rushed past grabbing a hot mince pie on his way to the stables.
Here, take this with you, she said, thrusting a basket towards him, crushing the pastry he was clutching, and spilling hot mince all over his hand.
AAArrgghh! MaNON! Cuthbert licked his burnt palm and glared at the cook.
Manon gave him a swift slap round the back of the head and said, That’s your own bloody fault for nicking it in the first place. Go and pick the mushrooms for the soup, and some rhubarb for the crumble, and bring me some greens, too.
Cuthbert groaned, But MaNON……..
Bugger off and do it! Ask that Bill to help you, he just went outside, hurry and you’ll catch him.
December 14, 2007 at 3:07 pm #1989In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
HE managed NOT TO GET lost WITH THE spiders downstream,
HIS exploration sense WAS NOW yellow, AND THAT opened SOME NEW thinking AND ideaS,
HIS hands COULD easily CHANGE THE maleDICTION THAT HE’D seen,
AND IT seemed A close light WOULD bounce FORTH
ANNOUNCING SOMETHING fine AND soon great TO COME.December 12, 2007 at 7:58 pm #591In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Arona sat by herself just outside the cave. It was twilight hour, in between the dark and the light. She had awoken early, with a heaviness in her heart.
Maybe I will just sit here for ever and ever and never move again, she mused, I will turn to stone, and they will make legends up about me, the strange stone girl of Malvina’s cave.
Buckberry the little dragon ambled over and sat quietly next to her. He had been foraging in the half light for the buckberries which grew outside the entrance to the cave, and to which he was extremely partial. Arona reached out a hand, slowly, and petted him. She felt tears begin to form somewhere in the dark space behind her eyes, was it many tears or one endless tear? she wondered. The tear started falling from her right eye first. The left eye seemed more reluctant to cry, and when eventually a little trickle started down her face, she followed its watery path with interest.
Light will come, said the voice kindly, can you feel it?
The tear from her left eye had caught up now, Arona noticed, and was first to dampen the waiting earth.
Buckberry and Arona sat for quite some time, communing in companionable silence, and both knew that morning a bond was formed that would not easily be broken.
December 12, 2007 at 4:09 pm #589In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
As he layed on the purple sand, she placed one hand on her heart and her other hand on his heart. She closed her eyes and began to sing.
A golden hue began to emanate, with touches of pale emerald green. With her touch she relayed in energy, that she would assist him to fully awaken.
She would do this, with the pure love she contained within her heart. For she knew no different.
She was about to embark upon a journey, that she knew would take her away from her existing family. Momentarily.
She also knew, that all was well, as she would bridge the two worlds together.
Her father would be furious, but her heart would win him over. She knew thisAs he slept, she went for a much required swim.
She had to find a way, to stay on the surface longer, without such discomfort.
Not being in the water, had her feeling so dry, all over, including her throat.
She swam and swam, swirled around, and then, she heard her father calling her name………………December 12, 2007 at 11:37 am #584In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Malika jotted down some notes on the chat window, depicting the images as they whizzed into her mind like the pages of a multicoloured flip-book
“As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
They held in their hands objects that projected sounds…”As she swam swiftly to regain the spot of her observation, she skimmed almost to the surface, and as she did, she saw lights. She surfaced and heard sounds that resembled the music that she and her sisters played.
They held in their hands objects that projected sounds, and their echoes in the waters were projecting harmonious symphonies that were carried miles across the waters.How odd that the sounds where so similar to the ones she had always known. But they were different, rasher, suffused of a violent nature which was so alien to the world she was coming from. It all was perplexing, and almost deafening to her. Her eyes getting slowly accustomed to the light could not yet perceive that there was no longer the life she’d felt on the strange floating body, but she knew it assuredly even without seeing it.
She plunged back into the waters, to reattain the gliding peace and softness that she had been missing so much already, even though she had been out of it for barely a few moments.
Where was the life she had felt… Gone in the strange world of the surface? She knew so little of that world, that she imagined that all their creatures could swim as easily in the airs as she could do in the waters. Was there a bottom to their environment?
All of these questions were erupting and expanding in her mind, when a sudden feeling got her forthwith.She could feel him. Sinking slowly… and she could feel his pain inside, something else that was alien to her… He was so fascinating…
She swam fleetly to where he was.
She turned in small rounds around him, following closely his descent, not daring to touch him.
So alien, yet so beautiful.She could communicate with him, as he was in something close to a deep slumber, and allowing for that exchange to happen. It was a breach of the rules, she knew.
She had been told not to interfere with things from the surface, yet she was interfering already, and she’d always been doing it in a sense… At what point did that breach leapt from her imagination to reality? She couldn’t say…The light was casting a yellow radiance in the blue waters. A feeling of warmth and comfort surrounding them.
He was telling her he was dying, yet he was comfortable. Time meant nothing…
She conveyed to him that she could help him, bring him back to his floating station, where he could spring back into his world… She wanted to share so many things with him…December 7, 2007 at 9:48 pm #1982In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
YOU’LL BE following yourself BEFORE YOU GET started, WEARING THAT wig, Rose. Come HERE! TINA pulled IT OFF moments LATER, within SIGHT OF EVERYONE. THEY ALL smiled BUT everyone WAS cool. (Maevel WASN’T surpriseD TO BE creating handsOME perfect AND weird CHARACTERS.)
IT seemed THE PERFECT synch WHEN blue joe THE action MAN, KNOWN TO bed EVERY known HUMAN skin IN TOWN ~ WITH NO particular PREFERENCE ~ WAS FOUND getting A faceLIFT TO help IMPROVE HIS laugh.
Given THAT sam’S FACE HAD weatherED ALOT TOO, tracy WAS full OF thoughtS OF GAINING fair points FOR A BIT OF magic. HER quiet friends, AS WELL AS HERself, HAD bookED THE APPOINTMENT. Nothing, NOT EVEN THE WEIRD aspects OF THE days, easily FORGOTTEN, COULD SHAKE THE focuses understandING.
Images IN THE sky APPEARED, AND THEY wondered ABOUT THE STRANGE sound…….
December 7, 2007 at 8:26 pm #569In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
It had not been easy to convince his parents. His mother especially…
As a matter of fact, he had failed to convince them at all, and Tomkin had to decide by himself whether he wanted to follow Badul and his crew in his quest for unknown mysteries.Tomkin had left a short written message for the Sharples, to tell them that they needn’t worry, and all would be fine.
Badul had decided to split his crew in two, having Austor in charge of the boats while he would go with a handful of trusted men by land.
Apparently, the young boy was aware of one portal which was close to their current location. This one was not part of the main network and was operating unknowingly to the officials. Its size was small, and travels were regulated by a local governor who used it for his clandestine business.
It was located deeper inside the lands of Golfindely, and the mountainous area of highlands planted with luxuriant trees made its access difficult.Despite the boy’s initial reluctance at leading them to this place, Badul was determined to go, and very quickly Tomkin was excited at the opportunity to finally travel as he always had wanted to. It wouldn’t be by sea for now, but as Captain Bone said, every journey starts with one step.
December 7, 2007 at 6:28 pm #1981In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
ANOTHER synch! IT WAS clear THAT THE sisters, AND THE sheriff apparently, PRAYED TO god yurick. GOD focuses ARE real, SO keep AN eye ON THE three WISE MEN.
SyncS, WHAT A laugh. THE WIDE ones quiet boy, A STRAPPING male, READ random SNIPPETS behind THE DOOR. THE COOK WAS making eggs BENEDICT, caught IN FLAGRANTE DELICTO, despite THE LOCKED room.
THE voice SAID “Try TREATING ‘EM mean”. Let ted COME easily TO THE change! GOOD morning baby, I JUST happened TO FIND THE truth WRITTEN ON MY hand.
WE’RE dancing THIS beautiful song, SO perfect AN experience!
WE sighed, laughing.
December 7, 2007 at 4:24 pm #567In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Veranassessee (V’ass) Eloha, swimming like a naiad in the waves of the sapphire sea bordering the island of Tikfijikoo, was back in a few powerful strokes on the wooden planks of the pier from which she had just fallen.
Trained in many martial arts and in the art of concealing her emotions, she effortlessly managed to maintain a perfect composure despite the fact that this unexpected moment of inattention may have cost the loss of the precious box of rare Blue Bonnet spiders —the venom of which was needed for the good success of the “treatments”.
Sharon and Gloria, still cackling unceasingly, thanked Armando, the pilot of the seaplane, who had entertained them no end with his stories of mysterious wreckages and lost aircrafts.
Now they’d just landed on this paradisaic island, and a gorgeous woman dripping in water was extending them a firm hand, greeting them.Al was wondering who had jinxed his last entry in the play, that he had to write twice, since some invisible mischievous hand had just made him lose the first in the /dev/null dimension.
Good thing the Sumafairies bent over his crib had been gifting him with a good memory…— Welcome at Tikfijikoo, where your kewlest dreams come troo.
V’ass was satisfied. Though, most of the box had been lost, she had managed to save two couples of spiders, which would be enough for the two turkeys.
As for the remaining ones, let’s just hope they’re all dead and drowned.December 7, 2007 at 9:51 am #1977In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud
Thought became hands:
Beginning sleep synch;
Surprise Truth ~
Speaking TimesDecember 6, 2007 at 9:14 pm #556In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Chris! you look terrible! Nurse Bellamy, momentarily startled by Dr Bronklehampton’s unkempt appearance, lapsed into first name basis. Dr Bronklehampton always insisted that a certain level of protocol be observed, except in their more intimate moments of course.
But today he did not even seem to notice her small indiscretion. Nurse Bellamy was perplexed.
I’ll bring you a nice glass of warm coconut milk, and you’ll be right as rain, she said hopefully. As she turned to go a bandaged figure propped up against the wall caught her eye. The apparition was made even more surreal by the addition of a bright yellow wig on it’s head. She screamed, clutching her hand to her bosom.
Oh my God!, what is it! she exclaimed in startled surprise.
A Mummy of course, what does it look like? answered Dr Bronklehamptom in a listless voice.
Chris Bronklehampton stared at the Mummy, and wondered how things could have gone so horribly wrong. All he had ever wanted was to do something good for mankind. Well that isn’t quite true, Chris is it, hmmm really? Weren’t you after a bit of fame and fortune as well?
You won’t get away with this, you know, said the Mummy.
December 6, 2007 at 6:56 pm #542In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The old abbot Hrih, was coming back from the gardens of the Monastery, the soil dampened and muddied by the heavy rains of the season sticking to the sole of his sandals. Hrih Chokyam loved to be reacquainted with the rawness of nature, and the fluidity that the rain provided to the ground by transforming it into malleable mud.
He was bringing back vegetables for the dinner’s soup, and was amazed at the fact that even though he had felt so close to the earth, barefooted in his sandals, he had not even a drop of mud on him.
He had delayed his choice for much too long already, and the not so subtle pressing of his main confident Aum Geong to officially elect his successor was making him unquiet. He was deeply trustful of Aum Geog, and of his sincerity as a Holder of the clear Light that was being tapped into, channeled and refined by the Monastery’s spiritual endeavours.
But Hrih was feeling that Aum Geong’s views were slightly too narrow for the heavy task he was wanting him to carry on.
He was too good at creating structures and rules, and Hrih felt that even if all done in good intent, it would be taking the risk of chocking the great outburst of powerful energy that was lying at the very foundations of the Monastery.The young man that he had noticed a few hexades1 ago, though very discreet seemed bright and very dedicated to his task. He had been greeted by all, and had soon felt at home. Franiel, as he was named, was under the tutelage of Jog Lam, a very wise (albeit young) monk that Hrih had adopted some years ago as the parents had been abandoning him a young baby at the eternally opened doors of the Monastery.
Hrih had made a decision. He would not play favourites. Seeing the blank black Meditation Wall, an idea crossed his mind. He would announce at the dinner that the monks willing to do it could do a short poem of 3 stanzas where they would express their highest truth on the Meditation Wall…
1 On that part of the Duane (the planet where Mount Elok’ram is), time is divided in groups of six days or hexades, each being attributed to one of the Elder Gods: Ghört (Airs) Nærvel (Waters) Agnima (Flames) Selvaniel (Woods) Margilonia (Earths) and Lejüs (Forgotten). The names or the days are Ghordië, Narduë, Agduë, Seldië, Marduë, Shandië.
Name Element Quality Hexade Ghört Airs Male Ghordië Nærvel Waters Female Narduë Agnima Flames Female Agduë Selvaniel Woods Male Seldië Margilonia Earths Female Marduë (Shaint) Lejüs Forgotten Male Shandië December 6, 2007 at 6:05 pm #540In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Anadron and Goldarny were joining their energies. They had discovered another dimension in their explorations and had decided to do a scout peek, for a few minutes.
Their first exploration together. It was quite thrilling and new to them.They had chosen a cell of the sand hive, to be quiet and kept warm during the process.
They joined their hands letting their awareness encompass the other’s awareness, they blended their focus and created Andrimiñ. The qualities they merged in this new aspect could be translated as a male.
He had not yet a shape. The shape would be created as soon as Andrimiñ would enter that new dimension. Andrimiñ was their messenger, their explorer. He would gather and explore the dimensions and as he was connected with them and not fragmented he would always be connected with their own focus in Asaris. He was still new and they had just merged basic qualities so they could taste the dimension through his experience.
Andrimiñ was quite excited
and almost faded out, but Anadron and Goldarny managed to sooth their own excitement. A smile on their face, they projected their explorer to the Alienor dimension.
December 6, 2007 at 1:29 am #514In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Arona curled up in front of the fire with little Yikesy. Vincentius was telling Yikesy one of his intriguing and colourful tales of far away, imaginary worlds …. there seemed to be men with toads and a girl who liked to dance and a strange blue bull creature that everyone wanted to get their hands on. To be quite honest, Arona couldn’t really follow it, but she loved the sound of Vincentius’ soothing voice. She sighed happily, it was so nice to be back.
December 5, 2007 at 4:43 pm #506In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Beattie and Leonora had finished unpacking their belongings, and had rearranged the meager furnishings of the little white washed cottage. There was one item as yet unpacked: a sturdy wooden crate.
What are we going to do with them, Bea?
Hmmm? Beattie looked up from the computer. Oh, the bloody skulls. Well, not on the mantelpiece that’s for sure! We’ll have to hide them again. How about in the old bread oven outside?
There’s an idea, replied Leonora. Give us a hand then, Bea…
But Beattie was busy tapping away at the keyboard. Well, what a coincidence! she cackled, turning round to face Leo. Bert’s found another one!
December 3, 2007 at 9:23 pm #505In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Sirielle looked through the crystalline window.
A humpback whale was passing by. Sirielle loved the song of the whales. Gorgean whales like this one were males, singing all during the rut to attract females miles away. Every season they would keep most of the same music, adding variations at times to the melody. This one was a sly one, Sirielle could tell. With its beautiful purulent budgeonic spots on its back, it was an old mighty male whale that she had seen already the past seasons, but its song had changed ever so slightly. It had probably plagiarized some of the most successful songs from other whales to become more attractive and that would make him a bit over the top.
At least, the females had a good parade for such insistent huge males, they could just put themselves upside down, close to the surface, so that the indelicate male could not have access to the holy of holies.
Sirielle felt so close to the whales.Today, she had noticed the first changes on her body. She was growing gills, and soon would be able to breathe underwater. She was already a proficient swimmer, from a young age, as her hands and feet had grown swimfins. But the most interesting modification wouldn’t occur before a certain age.
When she had entered the room of Crystals, she had been a bit disappointed. She had expected some great ceremony with old wizened long-bearded robed priests to operate the crystals, but there had been only a young man not much older than herself, and a distracted middle-aged woman.
The Crystals had the ability to beam some specially focused light and provoke realignment of the patterns of the body. It was like the vibration carried by the light and enhanced by the crystal would be modifying the vibrational quality of her organism, and make it change itself quite naturally from the inside.She couldn’t wait to go out in the oceanic depths and test her newly grown organs to swim with the huge cetacean.
November 29, 2007 at 1:22 pm #493In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Valparaíso, Chile, November 1997
Cillian Mc Gaughran was finding that dying was longer than he expected. Since Fidelma’s death, twenty years from now, he would have vouched pain would get him on the other side quickly. But it was as if every object his wife had touched was letting him know of her presence. Perhaps they were holding him here…
He couldn’t wait to be reunited with his dear wife. Sixty six year-old wasn’t old enough to die for many people, but it was enough for him. The world was changing too fast. He decided he had to let go of all these objects. By and by, he had released every one of them… But one.Of all of them, this one was very dear to him. An old family artifact that was handed down in the family for as long as he could remember. It was said to have been the property of a famous dancer during the Gold rush period and was rumoured to bring good luck… Lord knows how it came into the family…
It was dear to him because he had given it to Fidelma when she was having her chemotherapy, battling the blood cancer she had been diagnosed with. It looked wonderful on her delicate features. The wig had not aged since all these years.
It would surely finish him off to release that last object.Cillian had heard some exuberant stories of a new company named eBargey where things were auctioned on the Internet. New technology he was finding a bit hard to follow the progress though he was not ignorant of it due to his years spent as a high rank officer in the US Army.
That could be a great way to release the wig. Auction it off, and see how high and how far away it could sell… Perhaps it would find a perfect match.Chris Bronkelhampton had always loved to cross-dress since he was a child. He was a fine collector of wigs and had many lined up in his secret closet.
He had just managed to do a risqué plastic surgery operation on a kingpin that would grant him all he had ever dreamt of. He leaned comfortably on his chair, rubbing his hands gleefully.
Something on the computer screen caught his eye. On the newly auctioned items there was something that he wouldn’t have dreamt of acquiring in his wildest dreams.November 29, 2007 at 10:47 am #483In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
V’ass placed the box carefully on the pier as soon as he got off the boat, and pulled his false handlebar moustach off with a yelp. Next to come off was the bowler hat, and shake out her tumble of blonde curls. V’ass shrugged off the charcoal grey pinstripe suit jacket and unbuttoned the crisp white shirt. With a long sigh of relief, she started to unwrap the bandages that had squashed her ample bosom to her chest.
As the bandages fell in loops on the floor, they wrapped themselves around the box, and in an unfortunate twist of fate, when V’ass bent over to pick them up she inadvertently yanked the top of the box off.
Oh…MY…GOD! V’ass shrank backwards as hundreds of huge blue spiders spilled out of the box. She lost her footing, and fell backwards into the sea with a splash.
November 29, 2007 at 9:57 am #482In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Bathsheba didn’t feel even a bit guilty for not telling that fool V’ass about the habits of Blue Bonnets. Cash was cash; he’d paid handsomely for the spiders, and Bathsheba congratulated herself. She wasn’t creating V’ass’s reality after all, now was she? He had chosen to buy the Blue Bonnets; His choice. His choice too to pretend he was a man; Bathsheba wasn’t fooled for a moment, she knew V’ass was a woman underneath those manly clothes.
Bathsheba cackled, and set about attracting the next fool into her shop.
November 29, 2007 at 9:30 am #478In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Ted did a double take at the sight of the tall lean man. Fuck me! he cried in astonishment, It’s a doppelganger! Ted’s hand shook as he swigged down the dregs of his tequila; he slammed it down on the bar and called for a refill.
-
AuthorSearch Results