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Shut years whole fire creatures nothing appeared,
Snooter characters heard important stay allowed,
Aardvark rolled
Energy direction everyone bring fine beautiful.

Col had been in the business of intergalactic sleuthing and profiling for many years now and his tall broad stature and kind, poised black face was well known all around. They used to call him “the Zebra”, not so much because he made black and white statements —he was very nuanced— but because of his unusualness and knack for blending himself in questions.
As a matter of fact, he’s made himself quite a reputation of a highly skilled professional, with no one up to par for finding clues and solving mysteries.

Col Umbro’s motto was “all you have to do is to ask the right questions, in the right order.”
Of course, he wouldn’t tell which way was the “right” one and which was not. But one thing was sure enough, most people completely overlooked the last part of the sentence.

And that was what he intended to teach to his next assignment. A distant focus of his essence in mid-shift. For the moment, dream projections were the easiest and safest way to catch their attention, because they were not accustomed to a shifted state enough to pay attention to more physical projections.

It was hilarious to see that most of the enthusiastic ones were waiting for unexpected events to come and rapture them in awe. Sillies… For one, “unexpected” shouldn’t be so… expected.
Besides, most of the time, (most of the now) people were simply blind to the facts not in alignment with their allowance for disbelief. A pink elephant, say… They had grown so blasé that should they even see it standing in from of them, that they would probably then dismiss its appearance as another miracle of genetics (or debasement thereof)…
So, reaching them would actually require quite a tactful and sly approach. Qualities he possessed enough.

“Who’s this new person appearing disguised in a pseudonym?” His assignment was wondering.

They had forgotten rule number one. Nothing is hidden from you. Granted, a pseudonym is a mask, but the choice of the mask is revealing enough of a clue.
Then, you had to ask the questions in the right order. “Who is it?” should be the last of them all. Same with all the “how’s”. “What and why” where more important questions to consider.
Once you got the “what”, the who is so self-evident, that it would not even retain the slightest of interests…

He had found a nice slot, just after an entertaining equilibristics dream show. Making a dream for his assignment would be fun. And probably even more fun as she was the most impossible subject who wouldn’t remember dreams at all! He would have to use a proxy dreamer. Someone close enough to her. He knew exactly who to choose…

The transitory times were hectic, to say the least, though it did not always appear as such for everyone involved.

For focuses, still living at the helm of the Shipft, riding the turbulent waves of change, it was a very delicate period.
The last wave had propelled them very far in a short time, and they had rejoiced that their promised new land was in sight. Finally.

But little did they know that the land in question was only still a reflection of the old. They had created it to let themselves rest, and spew out their stress, their anger and frustration, while behind the curtains the activity was intense with the careful and barely noticed moving of props.

Sometimes, the riders of wave had glimpses of that movement. But it still felt as if they were left on their own. Most of the activity seemed to have shifted to other grounds, and that was a ground they didn’t realize they had access to already.

Like the rainbow Bifröst leading to Asgard, all these bridges between the realms would soon start to crumble. It wouldn’t be possible to have one foot here and another there, not any longer.
Choices will be made.
They are being made.

And then, the Circle of power, the one Ring will be melt into a burning core of ‘lova’, and the Shite will be healed and shifted. (well, tentatively heehee)

“Speaking of infinite details,” said Björn who was watching a circus program with a muscular looking man who balancing his contortionist partner who was attempting to balance plants on her face.

“What?” said Iris who was already dozing on the couch.

“Sorry dear, I was just talking to myself, have nice dreams”, he said, stroking gently her freckled face.

He continued in his head, slightly dozing off himself.

“One two, one two. Testing the acoustics… Sounds good.”

“Funny how these thoughts come in and out… It occurred to me something funny.”

“Can you add a plush toy in your dream?”
“Oh sure darling. What kind of?”
“A baby aardvark”

Björn wasn’t very comfortable yet, he started to toss and turn until he realized he was seated on Iris’ plush aardvark. He fondly placed the little soft thing in Iris’ arms and returned to his thoughts.

“There, it’s inserted…”
“Now, your reality can be viewed to some extent as the most complex, yet the most simple of assemblage. You may liken it if you will to a room with mirrors (*). Ancient Indian mystics have spoken of Indra’s net where droplets of waters are each reflecting all of the other ones; these are the same images.
It is not new information to you, the fact that you are seeing your reflection in your world, or that it is a sort of illusion reflecting you, but this is not the point we want to highlight here.

Consider that the room in which you are is reflected an infinite amount of times in every direction. In a sense, they are all the same. They are you. Now, we come to the interesting part. You may very well decide to explore the room next to you with its shining details, by going through one of these mirrors. Some individuals quite enjoy such explorations, they call it past or future or even probabilities, other dimensions etc. And by moving into the next room, it becomes their present.

You now realize that you have not really moved, since all rooms reflect only you. And you may want to continue in the direction you are exploring and go into more rooms. It’s alright. But some individuals realize that all rooms are equivalent, and that from where you stand, you can view the point you wish to explore in one part of the mirrors reflections. This is being present. You shift your attention, and expand your vision of the tiny part, rather than moving towards it with great efforts.

Now, when you are dreaming, the very nature of dreams is the same. It gives you a whole fractal hologram to ponder. You may get carried away by wanting to remember all the tiny details, because in doing so, what you are doing is simply opening rooms upon rooms upon rooms. And more details will be created for you! Or you can simply realize that the details are all contained within your feeling of being present, and standing in the middle of one of these rooms, and not one of them is more important than the next.

Connect to your feeling, and all the natural movements of your explorations will be automagically connected. And we bid you a nice fractal dream exploration.”

Bronkel was stern as ever, yet you could feel in his eyes that he was troubled.

— “What? That’s roobish, isn’t it?”
— “No! Elizabeth! Not at all! It’s your best book in years! Poople will want more!”
— “Well, we’ll see… For now, I think my moose needs some rest”

Her detox had done her great. Her beautifool violet eyes weren’t as bloodshot as before, and she could even see some of her hair grow back in places. Elizabeth in some surge of energy had collected all the bits written here and there, loose paper flying at times with some missing (perhaps used during her poohnuts hazes to light fires in the office).
Some of these paper she wasn’t even sure were hers, or writing attempts by Finnley, but she didn’t care; they were all so funny and interesting.

For instance, she wasn’t too soore that she’d have Veranassasss —whatever her bloody name was— go off with the pilot of the plane, but that sounded nice for her. So she’d used that part too.

Of course, the Spanish couple, Paqui and Jose had reemerged at the boulder moving party after a long trip in the underground space-traveling tunnels. Leo and Bea were not so glad they’d reappeared so early, but had found it was time to move on, and continue their quest for more bizarre and entertaining artifacts. And they wanted to go to Morocco anyway, in this gorgeous blue city…
Young Becky decided she wanted to go abroad to travel the world. “And study too” had said Dan who wasn’t as shifty as Dory, a thing for which she thanked heavens profusely every day.

Sharon, Gloria and Mavis after some more bizarre adventures among the Masai tribes finally found their way back home, while Akita continued his explorations of this strange shifting world of the 21st century.

Even the bizarre animals stories in the ZOO she’d kept. They’d even found Arky the Aardvark. He had been accidentally buried under Oligan the Oliphant’s pile of poop. The poor Oliphant had suffered from an excess of mangoes in his diet, and Arky was so eager to collect poop for his garden of flowers that he hadn’t noticed the harbingers of it.
Pawanie the lady Panda and Barry the White Bear had since then decided to take care of the little Aardvark, and provide it with their own poop to fertilize the flower garden. Theirs was a garden to behold, with the most beautiful flowers to be seen in miles. Attracting creatures from all over the place.

There were a few points Elizabeth had left deliberately unanswered; the mad doctor, who was probably still alive somewhere, and most important of all… if, after all this children bearing with Sean, Becky ended up with Sam or not.
One thing was sure though, they were all moving to the City. The sooner the better.

Leormn was glad to be back in his cave.
The trip with the twins and Irtak had been very interesting for all of them; it had expanded their knowledge of their world, and the young Irtak was allowing his desire to be expressing his playfulness with dragons more and more.

Leormn could foresee he would become a great dragon breeder, and the dragons once again would reappear with times of peace.

For now, he and Malvina were packing again. It was time for them to move the rookery, and find another spot where they could alter the stuck energies by simply being there. They were like roots in the ground, they were unseen to most, but they were moving, and changing the quality of the soil, enriching it, bringing lightness to it.

Irtak and the twins would start their own path, they had learned so much. They were heading to the South deserts, the land of the gripshawks, and other less known creatures. Irtak wanted to see the seal-men, too wherever they were, in between the Icy Lands and the Southern shores. He wanted to explore everythere.

Arona had found her way to the cave, and since Malvina was moving again, she had decided to stay there with her newfound little strange, but delightful family. Ikesy would probably go in a few years to fulfill his own destiny, but for now, the Ugling raised by an Oddling was doing well.
Having seen the interesting properties of her painted door (yes, the “peace off” magic door) she had finally acknowledged her talent, and decided to devote her time to take up her art. Of course, Mandrake was encouraging as ever (refraining to comment at the beginning), but she had no doubt her dedication would conquer his and her own doubts.
After all, her magic was strong; if anything needed to be drawn out of this adventure that was it. And Buckberry her own artist dragon was a remainder of that.

That was it. She had enough for the time being. Ever since the management had agreed to hire him for the new show, the Freakus was not as Fabulously Great as it once was.

Not that he was a bad guy, but he was all so closeted, he was imprinting it to the circus, and she wanted to breathe some different kind of air. Of course, never been a freak himself, Morgan the Mentalist wouldn’t ever come close as to understand what having been closeted your all life would mean. Being the Lobster girl of the show, she knew quite a bit about that.
It had took her awhile to know that there wasn’t anything wrong with her expression, so no one would told her how to express. Not the Mentalist of all others.

Damo, the guy who was setting up the tents had seen her leave the Freakus without a word, her little piece of luggage on her “normal” hand, while her claw-like one was tucked in a glove under her bosom. Sweet-hearted as he was, he had tried to convince her to stay, that surely there was some misunderstanding.
“Lyla, don’t be stoopid, ain’t got nothin’ fur you out there” he’d said to her.

She didn’t know how to tell him that all was good. She didn’t want to tell too much either, for Fama, his teen daughter wasn’t really loving the life at the circus either, and would easily have taken the bait to get out of there too. So she had moved saying that she would come back, “when it’s safe for kids” she’d added mysteriously.

Strange at it seemed, it was like taking a breathe of air, and yet, she couldn’t help but think over and over at how she could have changed anything in what had happened. Perhaps it was just a pretext for her to do her next step.
When Morgan first came to the show, he wasn’t in a good shape, and had begged Pat Elson to hire him. As he was kind of smart guy, he didn’t stay long in Damo’s team of workers. Pat saw his potential as a sort of empathic guy, and devised the Mentalist act with him.

He was good at cold-reading, mostly guessing at people problems; in the beginning, some of the freakus’ people would play a part with him, to amaze the audience, but it became less and less necessary, and he would do a nice job buy himself, with lots of “it wouldn’t happen to be that your mother gave the watch to you? No… not your mother… but someone close… I can feel blah blah” and then picking on the subtle hints the guy was giving off unwittingly.

Lately, he had started to kind of feel stuff for real. And he started to freak out. After all this time, not many people remembered Morgan as he first came to the circus, and for most he was the Outstandingly Great Mentalist. Yeah, he had been pimping up a bit his name too… Those things happen in the milieu.
But Lyla remembered. She was a girl at this time, but your work at the circus starts very early when you’re a freak.
She had seen how he gained a little confidence in himself, as long as it stayed within closed tents and half-lit veils. He was truly a master of illusion games, and he didn’t want people to see him differently than the way he was presenting himself. He’d first tried his little games of séances with some close trusty friends, and Lyla had been quite encouraging; he deserved to blossom his potential; no one deserved to be maintained at a place where you can’t reach your highest.

A few days before, Lyla had had the pleasure of seeing Jenny, who’d been snake charmer many years ago, and had quit to become a singer in a bar: “tired me to travel so much, ya see” she’d said to Lyla “Now my life ain’t so complicated”.
Then Jenny had then asked about the guys she’d known in the freakus, first of all was Morgan the Mentalist. “How’s that old fart of Morgy?” she’d asked with a giggle “still scamming around?”

Lyla had said innocently that he’d been practicing doing it more genuinely, even to some success with local peasants in a few séances. Jenny had greeted the news with a cheer. “Wonderful, hey!”

The next day, Lyla had had the Mentalist erupt in the caravan she shared with Zarafina and Venus, since Twi had gone to sing too. He was looking furious and once they were out of earshot (how could there be any need of making secrets with the others, Lyla had wondered, they shared everything, even the tiny bar of soap) told her with his sweetest voice how he appreciated Jenny. Of course she wasn’t a Mentalist, but she knew when someone was beating around the bush; and she needn’t be Moses to know the bush was smelling of burning.

“I greatly appreciate Jenny, but I’d love to choose when I disclose my information to her” that’s what he said. At first, she’d thought, well, why the theatrics? Cool for you guy, peace off now. Then she slowly understood that he wanted to tell her to shut her mouth. How could she know what part to shut and which to tell? She hadn’t done anything wrong did she? Why was he having the same tone than the frigging priests with their sermons telling that you’re sinful, and when you’ve got a crooked arm, it’s because you’re born evil and such guilt shit.”

Well, she didn’t want to stay in a position where she had to figure out which of his sharing was a real sharing or was not. So she better bugger off, take some fresh air.

She thought how she loved to hear the radio, and her lifelong dream was to work there, in a place where people would hear her before judging from her appearance… Maybe she would thank Morgy in the future for giving her the last excuse to do what she wanted.

The two roses of Jericho had almost completely dried up, furled again into a tight ball exhaling a slightly pungent odor.

Yurick was impressed by the genius of this plant, which could die and “resurrect” countless times, while spending most of its time in this dried up state, only waiting for some water to revive it.

Perhaps essence was a Rose of Jericho too; he meant his wider self, he could feel it springing from the moisture of new prospects and challenges, then slowly crawling back to a state of balance. These last past days were a sort of clearing of the rest of the waters of the year. Things were looking a bit shriveled on the outside, but you could feel life and impetus was there, if only dormant…

Funnily, these two didn’t have any names, unlike Sha and Glo the aerial plants, which were still kind of resting on an empty beige egg carton upon the white toilets in the bathroom, where light, moisture (and aerial nutrients) surely never failed to float around.
It was funny, he thought all of a sudden; looks like the little hairy plants are travelers upon a big iceberg… What a funny story this would make.

So, the roses didn’t have names… If they were essences of roses, what would be their focuses?

Well, what was imagination telling him? He could easily imagine them as sort of strange mummies who would dry up into balls of dried flesh and sinews and being revived sometimes during the flood seasons. Actually with the news of Venice (and next Rome) being flooded if there were some old mummies suddenly revived from old times and prolonged lyophilization, that could be a place to start. Well, they probably would have a hard time coping with all the changes and the pace of this time.
Alabama or Louisiana would be fun places to have some too… Funny mummies…

“Can we go home now?” Arona asked the dragon … “I don’t know what we came here to do, but I miss Buckberry and Yikesy (and his nanny), even old grumpy Mandrake. And it feels like we’ve been gone for months!”

“You’re not interested by knowing more about this place , are you?” asked Leörmn

She didn’t answer lest she might hurt the dragon’s feelings —if he had any, that is.

“Well, I don’t want to get home so soon!” said Irtak who was usually keeping quiet, but obviously was taking it all in here, being on this place like a grake on a lake.

Leörmn took a deep breathe, pondering the situation and the many other probable realities verging on this one, and told Arona:

“I believe there is a cave, at a day of walk from the shore, inside this land. This cave was used by the Guardians, long before you were born, and is known to dragons and nirguals from this time. From this cave, you shall be able to travel where you want. You may even meet the zynder to guide you.”

Arona was thinking that the dragon was surely becoming senile talking all that nonsense she could barely figure out, but she was too considerate to mention it.

“Do you remember your glubolin?” the dragon continued abruptly, but her mind was sharp, and she answered with certainty

“I sure do. Why?”

“Please take a moment to feel the remembrance of it”

Well, sure, if that can please you she had learnt not to contradict old dotty dragons, so she tried her best to remember herself and Mandrake playing with the glowing ball filled with coloured sands ; that would surely not bring her back home, but at least the dragon couldn’t accuse her of not complying.

“Continue…”

As she remembered it, she felt how delicious and strange that object was, and how she’d loved it, and suddenly, it was here. In her hands!

“The old dotty dragon still has a few tricks up its scales, young lady” Leörmn said with a slight smug on his snout (or whatever it is called).

“Oh, that’s all very nice, but what’s the point of dragging this along?”

“It’ll show you where to go” Leörmn answered, “use it as a compass; I’ve imprinted it with the location of the cave, so that you won’t be lost, and can find your way to the cave, or wherever you want to go. We are continuing here with the boys. Have a safe trip. We will meet again.”

Arona blew a kiss in the direction of Irtak and the dragons, and without hesitation went in the direction of the dense tropical forest.

“Well, that dragon is an odd ball, but at least, I don’t have to wait for them to finish whatever they’re doing on that weird place.” Arona was glad to be finally alone for the next days.

“Will she be safe here?” asked Irtak

“I believe she will, she has got resources. Besides, the Murtuane is a place filled with a certain peace and blessed with a slow unraveling of time; it helps take the measure of the events, and find one’s own truths.”

“That looks good this cruisin’ floatin’ icecub !” Sharon said.

On the deckchairs next to hers, Glor and Mavis were sunbathing tucked under warm rug blankets, appreciating the pale glimmers of sun that started to show up on this new day.

“Friggin’ fantastic!”
“It’s the bloody best holidays ever! The sun is so warm, we’ll be in Africa in no time, with Akitooh at the ‘elm!”
“Didn’t he say it was operated by Yuksomesilly cruise line?”
“Maybe Mav’, why you wonder?”
“It’s like it rings some kind of bell…”

Indeed, Akita had discovered a funny logo at the command board, and instructions left for the captains with headers coming from Yukailli Corp. He never heard of them before, which was not so strange after all, as he had missed a few years since his disappearing at the beginning of WWII in the Sargastic Seas, but they seemed rather organized for what had only seemed a simple iceberg in a giant plastic bag.

Now, he wondered, would they make it safely through the seas, without encountering typhoons, or… pirates? Kay was reassuring, but well, he was a ghost dog, so not really on the front line…
Good thing was that they still had some watermelbombs…

Not willing to play another tug of war with Elizabeth, whose mind was obviously not as soond as one might expect of an authoor of her statoore, Godfrey didn’t even mention to her that she misquoted him repeatedly by making him barf mindlessly unbearable amoonts of poonuts while in trooth, it was cashoo nuts he was craving for.

That being said, he couldn’t let her last remark go without notice, and pointed her to a newspooper article she’d been cutting recently off an interview with one of her former editors, Darool Barash.

“See, Elizabeth dear,” he said after taking a sip of a hot fragrant lootus tea “ Why would you want to impose your desired change everywhere ‘roond you. Thawing the ice caps? And what else? Did you think of the pengooins? All the beautiful harmoony you fail to consider… Why forcibly change the ootside when you can choose from an infinite of already created pootentials. Well, at least, that’s what Barash says…”

He paused, her looks betraying that she was completely lost.

“Frankly, Liz, you’re starting to worry me. All this loony talk… It’s so oother-dimensional. You say it’s too complex, but the way you moove all those extroovagant letters is baffling. And this non-existent “Al” you’re talking aboot… Let me finish please… I know you feel remoorse for leaving old Arak just because he wouldn’t let you have the tiny giraffes —not even mentioning that ghost-writer of yours, Finnley? That’s the name, isn’t it?… I sure want to believe your shift in vowellness excoose, but that’s not enoogh…”

“Will you just stop talking roobbish Godfrey…”
“Now, serioosly, your delirioos inspiration break-oot has got to be channeled, if we want to make your proper come-back ”
“But everything’s fine, I’m just very kewl.”
“You see! Like I said!”
“What?”
“You did it again!”
“ Yeeps? I did it again? ”
“Just now! You said ‘very kewl’, instead of ‘too cool’! That’s unnoorvingly vexatioos!”

“KEWL! KEWL! KEWL!” screeched Robert X the pet magpie from the other room.

When he had been hit by the blow of the watermelbombs and the furious lady he had come to rescue, Akita found himself in a strange peaceful place. He was getting bits of what was happening, but the will to resist and fight seemed vanished in a distant scene he was only distantly aware of.
He was seeing Kay, his spirit dog beside him, beckoning him to another place of white luminous and warm peacefulness.

“Am I dying” he asked, feeling the answer to the question wasn’t very important.
“Don’t be silly” the dog said mentally “Just let go for a moment, it’ll make things easier for you to get out of this place to another one you’d prefer”
“I’m not sure going anywhere is so important, being here reminds me of something long forgotten”
“Yes, you know this place, you’re drawing to you some memories of others of your focuses, explorers from your time and also ancient dwellers, in a very very distant past. These living memories will help you.”
“You were there too, configured differently but I remember you from there”
“Yes” the dog nodded “you had a pack of dogs in one of these explorer focuses. I was the alpha one, see…”

Some scenes moved in the white foam sprinkled with diamond dust like he was seeing through openings in a crystal cave. All was so clear it was elating.

“But we’re never going to get out of this place, not without a boat, a plane, not without a compass… and not without a brain!” he was being drawn back to where his body was, wrapped in the warm snet, jumping on the back of the snow scooter. “These women will lead us to a sure death, and pretty fast!”
“Just relax, even if they don’t give that impression, they know what they are doing. They focus on what they want, and they trust. They can’t see the dead-ends you are seeing. Sometimes you get caught up in those other memories of yours. You’ve read adventures of Antarctica explorers, most of them were drama, but it doesn’t have to be the same broken record now, you’re going to love that time if you choose to…”
“They’re so focused on themselves it’s hard to believe you. They wouldn’t see a leopard seal as a threat even if it was at their throats!”
“But they wouldn’t even draw the predator to them in the first place.” Kay was saying warmly “Have a little faith in them, there is a surprise coming along that’ll show you beyond a shred of doubt that their allowing for miracles is fairly titanic.”
“Titanic, yes… Now tell me I shouldn’t worry with all those icebergs!”
“Indeed” Kay said with a hint of mischief in its ethereal voice “Now, let’s wake up and have some fun!”