Search Results for 'imagine'

Forums Search Search Results for 'imagine'

Viewing 20 results - 141 through 160 (of 180 total)
  • Author
    Search Results
  • #1021
    TracyTracy
    Participant

      Yurick, did you see what just arrived in the mail? Imagine that, and on the 8th of the 8th 2088, as well! Look, she said, showing Yurick the Random Daily Retro Shift Elias Session quote.

      ~“In this, the eight is not actually an eight. It is a
      connecting symbol. Were you to turn the eight upon its
      side, it would become the connecting symbol.”

      “It’s the symbol of infinity.”

      “Correct, the infinite connection of the complements.”~

      #1014
      TracyTracy
      Participant

        “Oh just leave the reader to do the proof reading, Yurick! If ‘there are no accidents’ then a few misspellings or a bit of mangled grammar might contain a clue for someone somewhere, somewhen….
        it might be best to leave them in. You never know, you know… and anyway, I have this funny feeling that the pages aren’t quite as officially fixed as we might be inclined to think. Not quite cast in stone, as it were….Don’t ask me what I mean, Yurick,” Dory said with a laugh, “Because I can’t explain it.”

        Yurick knew better than to ask Dory to explain anything, and remained silent, with one eyebrow raised quizzically as Dory rambled on.

        “It’s like the branches of a tree,” Dory continued, with a faraway look in her eyes. “The branches on a tree look like such a tangle, but they are all connected to the trunk ~ the roots might look like a hopeless tangle too, if we could see them, but they do know what they’re doing ~ feeding the trunk or the core which sprouts out all over the place. There’s a bird in the tree, hopping from branch to branch. Does he care if he hops from one branch to another? No! Imagine if the bird was so rigid that he had to hop all along one branch from start to finish before changing to another branch.”

        “Hahahah,” Yurick laughed, “A Sumafi bird?”

        “You might say the little bird is the present moment, free to hop onto any branch at any time, or even fly to another tree…” continued Dory, who hadn’t heard Yurick.

        “Another tree?” asked Yurick with a mock pained expression. “I have enough trees on my plate already.”

        “And the thing is with trees, there isn’t really a place to start hopping or a place to stop hopping, from the birds perspective.”

        Dory turned to Yurick with a grin. “It’s a book that you can read from any starting point. No beginning, and no end… maybe we can have all the pages loose with no numbers on, sort of a do-it-yourself assembly…”

        Yurick laughed, a trifle nervously, and asked Dory if she would like a cup a coffee.

        #1010

        She was squatting on the sand beach, near the now calm ocean. The light was so dim that she barely could see the devastation, shards of coconut and palm trees spread on the shore, but the sound of the ocean was soothing.

        Aaah she had hold that pee for too long.

        “MAaaAVIS!” That suave authoritative voice must have been Sha’s.
        “COooOMING!” Tsk. One can’t have a pee alone…

        While she was readjusting her two pieces bath suit, ready to come back to the improvised discotheque, her attention was caught by something on the beach. A fire?
        She squinted her little beady eyes to discard any of the hallucinatory visions that sometimes she had.

        “MA-VIS!”
        BLODDY COMIN’!” a hint of exasperation. “Mrs Sharon Stone, you ain’t the queen here” she thought. “I can go look for adventure meself, if I want to”.
        Besides, the fire didn’t seem to be too far away.

        :fleuron:

        With the darkness that made very difficult their progress, Akita had made them stop near the shore, where they would see any trouble coming and had ordered the small troop to collect twigs and bits of wood to light a fire.
        The parents were still in a bit of a shock, and were staying with a blank gaze, looking with an air of wildness at the soothing sound of the waves. Anita was playing nearby, drawing things in the sand, muttering words to herself.
        That was a good thing that Claude was there. Unlike the others, he seemed quite strong, and the adventure didn’t seem to have left him short of resources.
        He had been on the island before, and had said they had to avoid the constructions, which were all owned by the same people.
        For all that mattered, Akita wanted to get to the authorities as soon as possible, but he had to compromise: they would settle close enough to have a check around and see if it would be safe to go there.

        In a minute, Claude had been roaming through the woods and had gathered a pile of wood. That guy was pretty amazing, Akita was thinking. Odd that he had retained his supernatural strength… At least, Akita had imagined that the guy’s strength was the result of the spider exposure, but now he started to doubt it. He had been sketchy to say the least around the circumstances of his presence.
        As far as he himself was concerned, Akita wished he had retained somewhere his connection to Kay, wherever his spirit dog was. What the creature had said? That veils were thicker, but not impermeable… Or something around that.

        I think they’re still hanging around

        What? What did you say? But Anita didn’t answer. Perhaps his tired mind was imagining things.

        With all that rain soaked wood, it would be difficult to get anything but smoke.

        I’ve got a lighter Claude handed him an expensive ziraf that flashed moon reflection in his eyes.

        Let’s get started then.

        :fleuron:

        What now?

        A roaring sound of a flying thing startled Mavis, passing over her head.

        Mmm… this island’s getting too crowded, me think. Must be another of Vessie’s guests… That gal sure’s got how to use her sex-apple.”

        #1007

        Fabella had just entered the room. She was chatting noisily, as if someone would answer to her. The sound of her footsteps was playing strange ripples on the wooden floor which were mesmerizing to look at.

        “Years ago, I’d have felt obliged to answer her” she was thinking, as she was hovering over her body looking at the freckled nurse.
        “I’d felt obliged by some nonsensical politeness to give her the impression that I was, somewhat, paying attention to her as a person —if not to her chatter.”
        She laughed wholeheartedly.

        “Oh, you’re smiling Madam, but that ain’t the whole thing, you know! Would you imagine that Miss Elena, after such an outcry would have become wiser, but no…”

        The voice was continuing an endless litany of gossips.
        It was obvious that the nurse wasn’t trying to get any answer, much less a conversation from the old body she was giving her daily injection to, she had found out. All the more since that body was so weak and talking was taking more energy than she was willing to give to this action. It was so much more exhilarating to play out of it.
        She was proud of herself, having come to a place not only to feel accepting of that bodily condition that had left her riveted to her chair and bed at an early age, but more so, to feel grateful for it.

        The first steps had been the most difficult: a whole new world so vast it was feeling as wide as a crocodile’s mouth menacing to engulf her. But like the crocodile’s mouth, it was easier to shut it close than one would think, and she had found out that she would snap back to her body each time she was distressed. Quite the opposite of what an adventurous mind like hers would endeavour to conquer. She had no care for her dying body, not with this new-found freedom.
        Perhaps it was a mere springboard for her to get accustomed to death. That’s what her brother had told her once. But he was so fully soaking in religious beliefs that she didn’t know how to handle that he had merely said to her as a gift.
        All that was important was the exploration, which was real to her. And it was, not only to her, but to others too.

        For instance, she was now walking, still around Fabella, observing the interplay of the nurse’s energy field with the other people around her, even though Fabella had finished dealing with her minutes ago.
        In fact, she knew more about Fabella than she could have learned in years of monologues with her. Things like that Ricardo wasn’t the caring guy he was pretending to be with her. But then, she didn’t know how to tell her (and if she had even the right to). She had the feeling that perhaps Ricardo and Fabella’s stories were just distractions that she had found to limit herself in the familiar of her little explorations.
        There was so much more that she could do, she could feel it. There were no boundaries to it.
        She could will herself to be in any place, unnoticed by most.

        Perhaps she could try a “jump” to another location. Trusting that she would come back, as she always had. If if she wouldn’t… well, that could well mean an improvement after all.
        What about something easy? Like some uncharted paradisaical island in the Pacific…

        #1004
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Becky was undecided. Add to the last entry? Or start another? Grinning wickedly, she started another.

          Her second impulse selection was a slightly late coincidence, but a coincidence notwithstanding. It was about Sand Dragons . A Few days previously Becky had been to an auction. She bid for and won a first edition copy of Wisp magazine; it had cost her an arm and a leg, but she was delighted with her purchase. It would increase in value, and was a delight to read some of the first published articles of the many authors, poets, artists and photographers who would later become famous. The article about sand sculptures had reminded her of the T.R.A.P. day out.

          Well, how about that! exclaimed Becky, reading the rest of the comment. Wish House is one of my most favourites, and I chose it by accident!

          She read:

          Illi used to play a game with Cranky (as she affectionately called nanny Chraddock) in the long months while her parents were away, called Wish House. Every room in the sprawling Elizabethan house was a different time and place, and the moment they entered the room they imagined themselves to be different people, in other times. Petunia Duster the maid loved to join in too; consequently not alot of housework got done, but with Gus and Flora always off travelling, nobody minded. Playing was, after all, so much more important than dust. In fact, a thick layer of dust made the rooms all the more mysterious and magical.”

          Becky ran her finger along the dust on her desk and smiled.

          OH! Becky jumped. I almost forgot to make a note of the number, now what was it? she mused, scratching her head. I think it was 171 :notepad:

          Becky wondered whether or not to start another entry. Intuitively, she chose not to. Her third random choice was another synchronicity with the first edition of Wisp: it was about pyramids in Spain. The first edition of Wisp magazine was particularly valuable as it was the first mention in print of the discovery of the Iberian pyramid culture.

          Number 835 she noted :notepad:

          #1000
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            Tina scowled: “What?”
            Six at the top means: A goat butts against a hedge.
            “Oh, that must be another of Becky’s evil doing…”

            Al added after a moment: “when I scrap the last line, the draw is not bad either …”

            “Oh,” he said, looking at the numbering… “Eighteen to go in eight days…”
            “Yes,” said Tina, “we will have to slow down now, better tell Becky that, or she will see our entries and go crazy with new ones”
            “Ahahaha” Al couldn’t imagine how Becky would react at someone telling her NOT to do something ;)) — it was like playing “you won’t dare” with a child :))

            #993
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              Tender hearted Tina hesitated momentarily as she remembered poor Prouty’s misery when she left him. Still! she thought, cheering up, it had all worked out for the best in the end.

              She couldn’t help but giggle when she imagined Al’s dismay when he saw how long it had taken her to achieve so little!

              #829
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Ella Marie Tindale was one of the many people reported missing after the floods. Her body was never found and her husband Arthur intuitively felt that she was still alive, although he had said little to the police. They hadn’t connected the mummy’s disappearance to his wifes disappearance, but Arthur had his suspicions.

                One night a few weeks previously, Arthur heard Ella Marie talking in her sleep. She often mumbled aloud, that was nothing out of the ordinary, but Arthur had had a nasty jolt when he read about the theft of the mummy, and recalled that Ella had been talking to a mummy in her sleep. He couldn’t imagine why Ella would steal a mummy, let alone walk out on their marriage in the middle of a flood, of all things, but then, Ella had always been strange.

                Arthur Tindale sighed. He missed his wife.

                #817

                How restless that dragon is, thought Arona. Always shifting this or that, always talking in his damn riddles. She thought fondly of Buckberry, and how peaceful and content he seemed by comparison.

                She was no longer sure where she was. She had gone over it a few times in her mind, but try as she might she could not make sense of Leormn’s cryptic explanations. Or that Malvina either, although at least she is a bit more pleasant about it.

                Anyway, wherever it is, it feels a bit grey, she decided matter-of-factedly. And I am missing the others, even that grumpy Mandrake if the truth be told.

                She closed her eyes and began to paint colours over the grey. She was not sure what to paint at first, so she just dabbed bright blobs of colour haphazardly onto her mind’s canvas. The colours began to run into each other and form shapes and it it seemed to her they wanted to take on a life of their own. So she let them, and it was not long before she found herself in a meadow of spring flowers.

                That’s much better, she thought, taking a deep breath and lying back in the soft green grass.

                :fleuron:

                As she lay there her mind drifted sleepily, butterfly thoughts every now and then resting on some bright petal in her field of flowers.

                Just living is not enough, said the butterfly as it danced by her head, one must have sunshine, freedom and a little flower.

                Oh! said Arona excitedly, recognising the words from a far away time, You must be the butterfly of the story! The one my grandmother used to tell me when I was a little girl in the Village.

                Perhaps I am! danced the butterfly and it whirled and twirled and swirled in the sky.

                Arona rolled her eyes in exasperation. Now you sound a bit like that wriggly dragon. A simple yes or no would suffice.

                The butterfly landed on her nose. Now listen here you! Don’t go blaming me. I am YOUR imagination!

                Oh good point Butterfly, said Arona graciously. She pondered a moment … Well in that case …

                And next moment Mandrake, Vincentius and Yikesy were sitting in the meadow with her.

                Oh THERE you are Missy, said Mandrake. Might have known you would be lying around in some spring meadow leaving Vincentius and myself to look after your little sprog. Tsk Tsk, he tutted.

                hmmm, thought Arona, that’s not quite what I had in mind ..

                I would have said it’s exactly what you had in mind, whispered the butterfly, fluttering by her ear and then off again until it disappeared into the field of colours.

                Arona turned her attention to Vincentius and Yikesy, sitting a short distance away in the meadow. She noticed how smooth and golden Vincentius’ skin looked in the morning sunlight, and how deep and melodic his voice was as he told Yikesy one of his seemingly endless repertoire of stories. Imagining a gentle hug and a kiss on his sweet, but it had to be said incredibly ugly face, she sent Yikesy into a peaceful sleep.

                Oh great idea, smiled Vincentius with a wink. What I had in mind all along really. Perhaps you could also imagine Mandrake chasing a field mouse or something?

                #775
                TracyTracy
                Participant

                  Schnortz was finding it amusing connecting to the Tarty Nun. The focus of his meditations as a monk in the Laughing Order were primarily focused on humour, as one might imagine. The Ancient Order of The Laughing Monks of Kuzhebar was one of the lightest jolliest places on earth, and Schnortz was loving every minute of it.

                  Grinning rather wickedly (for a monk) Schnortz sent Becky another limerick.

                  #1726

                  In reply to: Synchronicity

                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    this one is a synch because it suddenly popped into my head “big synch” then next second on the news was this story

                    and i sort of thought about posting it then thought “oh bit stupid don’t need to post every damn thing” .. then i noticed a lady surname Finn wrote the article so i decided i would …. synch or no synch .. pretty cool anyway, biggest building in the world and like a dragon too.

                    I am noticing that often … thought …. then synch … for example today in cafe i saw man who was in my dream again … i didn’t see him at first and then when I did, and thought “dream” … his friend at that moment said “I had a dream blah blah blah” (the conversation sounded quite weirdo, a bit like i would imagine us sounding if we were talking in a cafe and someone was eavesdropping)

                    #745

                    Arona, my dear?

                    The silky voice of Malvina resounded in Arona’s ear, while she was meditating on the implications of the story Vincentius had told her.

                    — Yes?
                    — May I borrow you Buckberry and your sabulmantium for a few moments?
                    — Oh sure, no need to ask… Though I don’t think you require my permission for Buckberry, isn’t he free as I am?
                    — Oh yes he is, exactly as you said, free as you are

                    Arona could have sworn she felt a winking energy rippling through her flesh, making some unfamiliar electrical currents crawl underneath her skin. She would have said she was thoroughly disliking it, though she wasn’t really sure if she was.

                    — Oh, Malvina added as if an innocent afterthought, we are moving by the way, perhaps you may find interesting to join us for the homationing ceremony. You may learn some more about your sabulmantium.
                    — Well, why not, answered Arona having no idea of what a homationing ceremony could be…
                    — Very well, please join us in the main entrance, where I am playing the harp. We will be waiting for you.
                    — I’ll be there in a second.

                    So, they were moving? Speak about implications… Arona muttered, stroking dozing Mandrake, who had feasted on too many of the moorats crawling inside the moisteous cave tunnels.
                    I guess I’ll take this astounding elan as a hint that I’ll be going alone she said. A yawn for all answer.
                    Considering it was Mandrake, that was almost a mark of distinctive affection… or was it rather of affectionate distinction?

                    Moving? She didn’t want to move, not yet, not like that… And to be honest, with all the stuff in that cave, she sure didn’t want to help pack all of this, be it by magic. What an impossible task.

                    Vincentius the nanny was taking care of Yikes, so she was confident should anything happen, he would be alright.

                    :fleuron:

                    On the outside of the cave, the dragons were all lined up, as if waiting for some unknown signal. Leormn first in shades of teal, and his spawns, Buckberry, with the most florid and baroque hues of purple that one could imagine, and the two facetious Heckle and Jeckle in shades of emerald, looking unusually calm.

                    Malvina, with Leo the little marmoset on her left shoulder, was playing her harp, while Irtak was accompanying her playing a mouth harp.
                    Some drums had been disposed around, and quite naturally, Arona felt like beating the measure on these, getting slowly and slowly relaxed by the music and guttural sounds produced by the throat singing dragons.
                    She almost laughed and broke the meditating pattern when she let the memory of Sanso come into her awareness. What a shame he’d missed that, that would have fitted him better than her.

                    Slowly the sounds stopped, and Malvina very gracefully rose from her stool, and greeted Arona with a loving hug. Her flowing robe was a tender orchid hue with laces of thistle pink, and her silvery peach long flowing hair were giving her the aura of a princess.

                    — Wait, where are Georges and Salome? She said, are they already gone?
                    — No, they are waiting for us at the new location, she said with a smile… Now, Leormn will start the ceremony.

                    Arona almost said Wait again, in anticipation of what was to come, and finally decided to let it flow. The serene look of Malvina and her motherly smile was of a nurturing reassurance.

                    Outside, in the grassy lands, the dragons had all grown wings and were apparently ready to take off. A pile of conic shaped dirty sand was standing in front of the entrance, that Arona had never seen before.

                    She could feel Buckberry answer her unspoken question without even a word being uttered. It is soil from the cave, and we will use it now.

                    Arona watched the dragons rise in the sky full of damp gray clouds, and wondered what they were doing.
                    They are doing two things, Arona answered Malvina (again that disagreeable habit of reading thoughts, couldn’t help but think Arona, wishing there would be some World around where such thing wouldn’t be so easy), first they are checking what kind of creature are staying with us and following the movement, continued Malvina, ignoring the remark, and second, they are drawing with that sand from the cave a circle to enclose the area we want to move

                    Arona didn’t dare say the explanations were making her even fuzzier, so she nodded as if abreast of what was going on.

                    Popping sounds of the dragons blinking in and out to get some more dirt almost made her dizzy, and she forgot the strangest feeling she had when she thought she heard “the area we want to move”.

                    — Now, continued Mavina, the sabulmantium.

                    The dragons were now all back, and the pile of sand had disappeared.
                    Arona’s attention snapped back to herself, and she handed the fine object to the lady. She couldn’t help but notice the glowing eyes of Irtak, who apparently was very eager to see what would happen.
                    So he will move too, she thought, hope his father won’t be too sad… Why did she felt it was a separation from this place she had found she was liking…

                    — If you look closely, said Malvina to no one in particular, but Arona took it for herself, you will see how easy it is to come back if you feel so inclined.

                    At her touch, the coloured sands in the sabulmantium’s transparent dragon shell globe started to move. And all could see the cave being formed, with all the little people, dragons, glukenitches and even Leo and Mandrake… They were all here, enclosed into a circle of sand.

                    — Now, if you will follow me… said Malvina who traced on the ground a curvy symbol.

                    And very slowly, as the whole sand scenery inside the sabulmantium was turning in a round, they all felt as though they were dissolving into the air. Yet, they were all solid, and the interior of the cave was still too.
                    The only thing that was moving was the exterior, twirling and changing, getting out of focus, and moving erratically at the beginning, and then getting close to a focal point. Some fine tuning was occurring.

                    And in a snap,
                    The landscape
                    Was
                    In all its splendor…

                    — Greetings! a smiling couple at the entrance of the cave said to the people inside.

                    #718
                    ÉricÉric
                    Keymaster

                      The rain started to pour down… Becky moaned and winced at each of the thunder strokes.

                      Don’t worry, as they say in the bayou, “mariage pluvieux, mariage heureux”. (rainy wedding, merry marriage) Al said with a wink.
                      Anyway, should be over for the vin d’honneur, he added hastily, hoping that the circus tent that was set up would be big enough to accommodate all the guests in case he’d be wrong…

                      He didn’t even want to imagine what the Russian fluorescent bacon they had planned to serve for the toasts would look like drenched in rain…

                      #712
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        oh that’s a fantastic idea Becky! encouraged Tina, when Becky suggested tentatively that perhaps she could try advanced visualisation techniques in order to turn this disastrous start to her wedding day around.

                        Yes, imagine it as you would like it to be, no matter how unrealistic it may seem. Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing your skin glowing like a glowing peach. After all, you have nothing to lose Becky-pooh.

                        #690

                        Sitting at her desk, Alana couldn’t focus on the document she was reading. A report from one of her companies. She could feel the energy of that French guy Langlade. He was sent by the Baron, and she knew he was dangerous. She was expecting him this morning, and it was almost 5pm. Well she was a bit overwhelmed because of what was at stake. She couldn’t allow him to take it. She couldn’t allow the Baron to use it. And she couldn’t destroy it either.

                        For the moment the crystal skull wasn’t here. She was aware that Langlade knew it. Though it was not for the reason he could imagine. And she wouldn’t reveal it to him… freely.

                        She called Mr Isashi. She couldn’t put it off eternally.

                        — Allow him in, Mr Isashi. Though take your time.

                        — Very well, Aunt.

                        — Is Harry here?

                        — Not yet, Aunt. Do you want me to summon him?

                        — No. Maybe it’s better if he doesn’t show up.

                        He looked at her furtively, and she smiled back at him. Her fear well hidden under a dose of confidence. She would never allow it to happen.

                        :fleuron:

                        Robert was waiting in the living room. He was lounging on a golden couch when the man came back and told him she would receive him. At last…

                        Well he was not in a hurry. He was patient, and so was the Baron… for now. And apparently he was to need a lot of patience.
                        The pace of the Japanese boy was slow, and he wouldn’t allow him to speed up. Apparently she was nervous and wanted him to feel so.

                        The corridor was well lit. Richly decorated with paintings or statues.
                        He had to admit she had a refined taste.

                        They stopped before a yellow door. The boy knocked 3 times and Robert could hear that the wood was very heavy. As he opened the door, they could hear a masculine voice.

                        — You may need my skills.

                        :fleuron:

                        — Who are you? said Alana. And how did you get here?

                        #685

                        Dory was bored. She didn’t really know whether to be Dory, or Becky, or even Illi today. Maybe I will be someone new, she thought. Hmmm……

                        Elvira, how about that. Well, Elvira was just as bored as Elvira as she would have been as Dory, Becky or anyone else for that matter. What happens when the inspiration goes? Where does it go? One minute the world is full of interesting things, and then Poof! nothing is very interesting at all……

                        Elvira had lots of interesting things to do, she had many books, and various artistic projects half started or not even started, just thought about on and off for ages, and she had puppies to play with, and a big drawer full of pens and things to draw with. She had a camera that took little videos that was often a lot of fun…but nothing seemed worth the trouble today, nothing at all…..not even that silly wacom thing, and after all that fuss to buy it, too…it was more fun talking about buying it then the darn thing ever was afterwards…..

                        The Internet, how could anyone be bored with an internet! There must be something seriously wrong with her to be bored when she had Internet! But she halfheartedly googled this, googled that…ho hum, tedium, nothing very interesting there….

                        Well, what about your imagination then! Elvira sat up a bit straighter, challenging herself. You can surely do something interesting in your imagination, can’t you?

                        She slumped back down again, and sighed. Like what? Well, imagine you are out in the sun, going for a walk…..

                        Well ok, then, I am on the beach. At first I feel the sun on the top of my head and I squint at the bright sparkles on the sea. Then, my ears are ringing with cold, it’s a windy cold day after all and not much fun on the beach at all. Oh pull yourself together, woman! Pull your scarf round your ears! It’s a great day for driftwood, just look at those waves rolling in.

                        I am trudging along, and the sand is hard to walk on and makes my legs ache. My God, I am out of shape! There are soggy oranges and piles of bamboo sticks, and plastic bottles all washed up in curving heaps. A soggy Marlboro carton; my, are they still smuggling fags from Gibraltar, I am so out of the smuggling loop these days….

                        Well, was that it? Elvira chastised herself. Not much of a flight of imagination there, was it? Maybe a walk along the river instead…..

                        Oh alright, if I have to…..actually I can’t be bothered to do this imaginary walk either, it’s no use….nothing is really very interesting today. I would like someone to amuse me, charmingly, pointlessly, something funny and light, and delightfully meaningless and simple…..

                        And god forbid, nothing to do with beliefs, please! Or any of that weird stuff, like other lives and other dimensions, and talking to aliens and all that weirdo stuff….weirdo, weirdo, stuff! UGGHHH Elvira shuddered.

                        Well, one thing I am pleased about, she mused almost happily, I can smoke again now my lungs are behaving. I thought I would be gloriously happy forever if I could only breathe without fear, and already I am Ho Hum about breathing….thought for sure I’d remember to focus on every brilliantly wonderful NOW moment, I did, after that fright with the lungs, but no….back to normal, well, worse than normal really, because now I am not even interested in anything……

                        I wonder if I should start drinking again…..Oh don’t be silly, Elvira told herself rather sharply. Well, drugs then, maybe that would buck me up. It’d buck you up alright, but for how long? Well when they wore off, I could take some more.

                        Yeah, right…..

                        Elvira sighed again. Even Bertie Wooster hadn’t even managed to raise a smile this time, and he always used to make her smile. Reading Wodehouse now made her frown, wondering what ever she had used to find so amusing……

                        The birds are making a racket out there, she noticed. Whatever do they find to sing about all day? Chirp chirp…jeeze….. maybe I should take up golf, she wondered. Dan seems to always have an interest, something passionately all-consuming……he never has enough hours in the day for all HIS interesting things….

                        Where have all my interesting things GONE?

                        #681
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          New Venice, February 2034

                          Al had finally completed his body experiments. The results were encouraging, and would probably help understand more of some bodily processes.
                          Obviously he’d had some fun with them, these past few years —it was a nice way to learn more about himself, and to bring some of that knowledge to other people. Essentially, it was mostly to show them that what centuries of so-called “modern medicine” had done was to make them defiant of their own bodies. The mass creations of all these diseases not so long ago was still very much embedded into people’s imaginations. How ironic was that most of these diseases were coming from the body itself.
                          So, what Albert was doing in his experiments was to push the limits to show how greatly adaptive the body structure was. It was nothing different than what scientists of the last decennia were doing on laboratory rats with many uncouth cocktails of injections —except that the trigger was for the most part an internal projection, no needing great amounts of artificial adjuncts.
                          Becky’s sudden and impressive illnesses, shortly before her wedding had not worried him too much, because he knew that at times the body needed to adapt to new settings and environments, albeit not always physical ones.
                          Another thing he knew well enough for having experienced it was that distrust was the most difficult part during this adjustment process. Distrust of the body, of self and of course of others. It was a delicate subject and most of their ancestors way of tackling the subject had been to reinforce the distrust in one’s own body. Pills and antibiotics could do wonders, but they were not that innocuous when they were used as ways to tell one’s own body it was not behaving the way it was supposed to be. As far as the symptoms were sometimes elusive, their physical effects could be quite unpredictable, depending on the patient’s state of mind.

                          That reality play they were all writing to record their various connections has always been great fun. They had been toying with the idea of great changes, new frontiers of the mind and spirit and expansion of their consciousnesses.
                          It had started during Becky’s infancy, were she was inspired by her step-mother and a bunch of her friends who were doing all kind of meditations and strange “imaginary” stuff. And two years ago, she had found old digital archives and had been amazed at some of the changes that had occurred during so few of the past years of her own existence, much of them mirroring these “imagined” changes.
                          So, she had enlisted Sam, and Al and Tina to join in that reality play, to continue the projection into that “Shift” of the mind and see how farther it would take them.

                          But there was something that Albert had always found a bit far-fetched was Becky’s confidence in such strides in their expansion of the mind. Doubtlessly he was acknowledging that things were changing —the last discoveries in how magnetic fields affected DNA and thus the bodies had been even compelling enough to have scientists reassess their stance on how DNA and evolution of species worked. But he doubted that everything would be a perfect utopia. And pain was such an inherent and useful part of their human experience that he was not conceiving how any consciousness expansion would get rid of it.

                          So, back to Becky’s illnesses which were mirroring his owns, a great deal of them was also about accepting that pain not as a flaw in the way they were creating their reality, but as something real, useful as a mechanism of feed-back. Accepting it didn’t meant cherishing it and holding dearly to it, it merely meant they had to recognize it as a way of the body to bring back the diverted awareness into the body. Well, Al wasn’t sure it would always be necessary to have it, but for the moment, the species was not entirely accustomed to being present into the body. Perhaps when it learns that, pain wouldn’t be necessary…
                          To reassure Becky, he had reminded her of how as a child she had grown teeth, and that had been perhaps one of the weirdest most disturbing and painful experience children experience in relation to their bodies, but her parents had been telling her all along it was just growing. She just had to trust her body knew better. Or like Krustis the clown was saying, it sure won’t help a man if he notices a thumping sound in his chest to have it stop…

                          Well, in a few days time, it would be Chinese New Year. The large Chinese population of New Venice made it a very loved holiday, and Becky and Sean had decided to wed on that day, February 19 th where they would all step into the year of the Tiger.

                          How funny, Al was thinking, leaning over the railing of the balcony, looking at the sunset reflecting over the waters… These funny people that Becky had known in her infancy, the original FGF, they had seen New York under waters in their meditations… And that yellow car…
                          They had discussed a lot about this event, and some had been disquieted by that fact, fearing some impeding catastrophe. But all in all it had been a smooth occurrence. Authorities had been aware of the issue, and though they did not yet know all the mechanisms at play, they had been preparing some measures to avoid the city being flooded.
                          There had been lots of debates, as most politicians were advocating of building of dams to prevent the rising sea levels to enter the city.
                          But the studies of Dutch experts had been the most convincing, and New York City official soon decided to follow the example of the implementation in Netherlands of moving and adapting structures, constructions of buildings and plains liable to be flooded, and even buildings and roads construction on stilts structures, which Dutch had come over time to prefer to the dams, no matter how technically efficient…
                          Another imagery of adapting structures with the flow…

                          #658
                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            The new shop was splendiferous. It had all people could imagine about pets and stuff, pets most people wouldn’t have imagined existed. There was even a whole division for the pets health, with permanent vets…

                            The “Rent’a Pet Shop, Boy!” was taking a whole building, with no less than thirteen storeys, and when Sidonie entered the huge hall at the ground floor, which was slightly above the waters’ level, she was awed by the quantity of animals which where stored in the facility.
                            She didn’t know what she wanted for a start and now she was beginning to feel lost.

                            A beautiful tall black woman, with short hair and wearing an ample avocado-coloured boubou and carrying a little dog close to her chest passed by her and Sidonie could hear her muttering apparently incoherent bits to herself
                            Come on Chumpy, the doctor said it will be alright after that surgery, here, here little thing, breathe, breathe and say YES… Oh Lordy, I’m gonna be late, and Sam will be bugged if I make him wait in his friend’s flying car…

                            Sidonie was mesmerized by the woman, who suddenly turned to face her and said winkingly “I’d rather not go for a squawking parrot if I were you, they can’t keep quiet… and not a magpie either… Al said this new breeds of nine-tailed foxes are great, but I can’t really get used to anything else but dogs… Oh, I must go, need to have the last alterations done on my wedding gown… How can they expect that I remember all of this!

                            And the woman went running out of the shop…

                            Sidonie was baffled… A nine-tailed fox… Why not, sounded like a nice idea. At least, she could start by renting it, and if it was a nice companion and Tonio was OK with it, she would adopt it…

                            She asked a vendor where was the fox section. The vendor took a very professional look to ask her if she meant the new genetically engineered breed of foxes, or the classical breeds, desert, arctic or continental…
                            Sidonie was lost for a moment, then remember the lady had said they were new breeds, so she asked for the new ones in an intimidated voice.

                            Upstairs, thirteenth floor, on your right after the jump said the vendor and beware of the shrimpigators

                            #653

                            Mavis had not yet received any news from her friends Sharon and Gloria. She’d hoped she could have some postcard from them before she goes and join them…

                            Nearly two months… Two months since they had all received the exciting email from that Dr. Bronklehampton and had decided to take a leap of faith.
                            As a matter of fact, they had taken that leap of faith just before, and it was just a… “synchronistic confirmation that they were heading in the right direction”, that’s what old Harry had said… Or was it Joe? No, that was surely Harry.
                            Fred wasn’t very pleased.

                            Bored by all the variations of dominoes and dices games at their third-age club, the three inseparable ladies had decided, in a bout of delightful unreasonableness, to embrace all that modern technology had to offer. Sharon and Gloria, being the devil-may-care as they were, got their computer first. Mavis had to convince Fred that he could make his horse-racing bets with that computer without having to go to the city, now that the last pub in the village wasn’t taking bets any longer… and even play poker! she’d said, bluffing so vehemently that she’d almost blushed in shame for fear of being wrong. But that last argument had convinced old Fred. And now, she was connected too. A second-hand computer, with a dusty old keyboard, but she’d let it soak a night in a soapy basin, and it was now shiny as a brand-new one. Except that it now kept behaving strangely…

                            In their club, they could boast that now they were connected all over the word, and all the old parakeets of the club had almost choked over their tea when they had heard all of what they had discovered.
                            Sharon had won most of the glaring bedazzlement. Wearing newly bought sunglasses, she’d said whispering like a conspirator that she had searched her name on a website and she had seen more than 7 million pages talking of her! Imagine! More than seven million people talking of her! And she had not known she was so famous… Hence the sunglasses, she’d added with a wink… there were probably a slew of paparazzi hidden somewhere to discover all that was to know about her… But you can’t fool dear ol’ Sharon Stone.
                            Gloria Fowles had been gathering almost 4,000 pages… But well, she had not the charismatic aura of Shah.
                            And Mavis Staples had got a hefty 470,000 pages!… Of course, she had not told Fred, who was already so paranoid about all of this stuff. When they had received the machine, he was convinced there were miniature cameras and transponders from the MI6 inside the PC and had spent hours disassembling and reassembling it.

                            Very soon after they had registered for their free email address (the reseller had explained patiently that she couldn’t electrocute herself while licking the envelop), the next day to be precise, at 5:33 —that was the hour when Mavis had finished her routine dusting and breakfast preparing for Fred, and just before taking Gulp, the dog for a news reading (that was what Sha was saying “butt sniffing for dogs, is like news reading for us”), she had granted herself a little peek into the emailbox— she had seen something in the recipe folder.
                            She wasn’t sure why they had called that folder “meat” or “ham”… no that wasn’t “ham”… “SPAM” more like it… Anyway, in the recipes folder, she’d received her first email. She’d called eagerly Sha and Glo, and they had received it too, and had even answered it already, as they had spent the all night “surfing” as they said — which was a bit difficult for Sharon with her sunglasses in the dark.

                            All three of them had received a free coupon for a massage and therapeutic rejuvenating treatments (and possibly some bonus organ enlargements free of charge) in Tikfijikoo Island!

                            Well, now Mavis was ready to go too, now that Fred had been mollified and she’d gathered the money for the trip.
                            In a sense, that was good she’d not received anything yet from Sha and Glo, it would allow her to imagine the wildest things!

                            #622

                            Somewhere during the 23 rd century

                            “aaa AAAA AAAAA Tcheeeew !”

                            “Hiiiiii?! Oh Fracking NOOOoooo!”

                            The shriek had been heard in the whole facility.

                            Phefia Beryl was the first on the spot where Vinya Grey had been playing so exuberantly with her vocal chords.

                            — Vinnie? Are you alright?… What just happened?
                            — Oh, Pheffy… I think I made an awful blunder…
                            — What do you mean?
                            — You know, my last experiment?
                            — The g…
                            — Yes!
                            — What?!
                            — They poofed away…
                            — Away?… You mean, all of them? Oh bugger…

                            :fleuron:

                            A few minutes later, Vinya and Phefia were around a white table sucking on straws picked into white and red polystyrenoid balls.

                            — Vinnie, you look terrible… That last geomagnetic storm had not done very good on your DNA I’m afraid.
                            — And the worse is that each time I sneeze, I blow up wormholes… I thought it would go better very quickly, but last one was big and lasted long enough to let the whole experimental herd wander off in another time/space and/or dimension…
                            — Yeah, that’s pretty bad… But wherever they went, they probably will die very soon… Imagine… With their stiff legs anytime they see something frightening, I guess a mere mapgie could easily have them for dinner…
                            — Such a pity… I was close to doing something great with them… When we discovered these fossilized blue spiders, I knew it was the first step.
                            — Bwah, this rehydrated frogrog is the grossest thing I’ve ever drunk… But yeah you’re right, the first results were very promising. The spiders venom could provoke very random and deep mutations.
                            — And all we needed was a little more control on the direction of the mutations.
                            — Anyway they’re just goats… You possibly can’t have breached a cosmic law with a handful of GOATS
                            — Hope so Pheffy, hope so…

                            :fleuron2:

                            San Demangelo, 1848

                            Elroy was laughing… Hey Joe, Twi! he shouted A letter from Uncle Ernie!

                            — Uncle Ernie? How’s the old bat doin’? asked Twilight
                            — He’s sending his greetings for the new year, and babbling about last dead people in the neighborhood. But there’s something funny. He’s saying that he’d just acquired some funny goats. Like popped in, out of nowhere. At first he’d thought of a joke, but apparently no one’s been claiming them. He’d thought them dead, they were a dozen laying stiff on the ground, but when they started to wake up, they went down again like broken dolls. Apparently the magpies on top of the tree had been scaring them. Ahaha… Where does he get such strange stories…
                            — Well, magpies are scarey, Twilight said meaningfully, with a side glance at Joe
                            — Whatever… At least he’d been giving us a good laugh. He’s saying he’s gonna breed the horny beasts, and start a Fainting Goat Fair (or FGF) in Marshall County. Perhaps we could get there next Thanksgiving…
                            — Depends when the Freak Show’s coming to town, mused Twilight, I hope to see them soon…

                          Viewing 20 results - 141 through 160 (of 180 total)