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November 2, 2008 at 8:01 pm #1192
In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“It’s the Interjection Intersection, TOOT TOOT coming through!” Baked Bean called gaily, holding her wine glass aloft as she squeezed through the crowd of revellers.
“Gotta get some more of those Kwon Tum Fizz Sticks, TOOT TOOT! Coming through!”
Baked Bean Barb was more than a little tipsy, but so was everyone else at Bea and Leonora’s Day of the Dead gathering. The Boulder Moving Party had had to be cancelled, due to the rain, but many of the guests had arrived anyway and the cottage was packed.
Bea was still cackling madly and having a hoot with the guests into the wee hours, but Leonora was beginning to fade in and out. Sitting next to the woodstove, she closed her eyes, random snippets of conversations wafting through her mind interspersed with snatches of dreams.
“…it’s the blanket prediction festival today…”
“…they all say the same sling…”
“…its The Absolute Sling!”
“…not that there is some portals, or there isn’t any portals, not that it’s any predictions or any non-prediction, but you see, the watermelons are better than orange in the new energy…”
“…cakes are great Bea, what are they called?”
“Yuki Buns they are, and that’s an Araili Tart…French recipe actually…the Armelle Caramel isn’t French though, dunno where….”
Someone snorted with laughter and said “I had Ogean Porridge for breakfast this morning…”
“…bloody porridge, man, you’re in Spain now, you should be eating Paella Patel…”
“Fran Fritters and Baruch Kebabs for me, mate, I like Obarbecued best…”
“…Kai Jon Prawns and Creole Opancakes…”
Hoots of laughter: “…oh a mergence…”
“…Frags Legs…”
“Take one aspect of Araili and one eye of Oba….
One pinch of Snoot…”“…a tablesnoot…”
“…and a cup of glukenitch droppings…”
“Not that much!!”
“Here, have some banoonanawananas and badulnuts” Bea said, passing round a bowl of, well, banoonanawananas and badulnuts. “Anyone for Oonatchos?”
All this talk of food was making Leonora hungry. She rubbed her eyes and made her way into the kitchen.
September 6, 2008 at 9:47 am #1087In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Phlynn was late. “You just can’t get the staff these days” grumbled T’Eggy. Where was the dratted man? All she wanted was a quick leg-over before dinner, and now that Hector wasn’t coming after all, she could have spent more time with Phlynn.
Unbeknownst to T’Eggy, Phylnn was in the stables, struggling into his pistachio green jewel studded sari. He was late for the rendezvous in the library, and in his haste to don the disguise of a sultry voluptuous sultana, the endless yards of fabric wrapped around his long legs in a hopeless tangle.
August 15, 2008 at 10:04 pm #1039In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Fumbling through the huge pile of paper, Elizabeth cried in anguish “it’s oowful, there’s too much stuff in those jumbled foolders!”
Her cry had made some of the tiny goats faint and as she started to look around, she found herself in the middle of what looked like a battlefield from the Rooman times, with Robert the magpie dancing gleefully on goats all four legs in the air.:goat:
Nervously, she reached for her cigarettes, only to send the pack flying in the trash with her chaotic movements. “booger, booger!”. As she went crawling under the desk, she saw that tooday’s newspaper had a chubby statue on the front page ( Oostrians fete voluptuoos, prehistoric Venoos ).
“What’s that? She looks familiar that one” thought Elizabeth, the form of the statue vaguely reminding her to go check with her aesthetic surgeon if any more work needed to be done since the last time, three weeks ago.And now, look at that, it’s almost like in dear Harry Pooh’ter
“ That Venoos is made from oolitic stone (meaning egg stone)… “But seeing the cinders of her freshly lit cigarette were almost lighting up a fire from her notes, she almost forgot to put that new thing in her clooh box.
June 25, 2008 at 9:57 am #944In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles…
She stopped for a while wondering why this scene seemed so familiar. She had lived that day already… Was she going crazy?
What would you expect with time-traveling affairs? the voice of one of her babies smirked at her…June 25, 2008 at 9:04 am #942In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Becky pulled a loose cotton dress out of the suitcase, and scowled at her bikinis. I’ll go for a long hike, she muttered to herself, slipping a pair of strappy mule sandals on her feet. At least my legs aren’t fat! she said, admiring her slim ankles.
Slamming the door of the hotel bedroom behind her, Becky trotted down the stairs, hesitating momentarily at the dining room, she decided against breakfast, and strode out of the door into the morning sunshine.
Squinting in the glare of the bright tropical sun, Becky swore under her breath. Forgot my fucking sunglasses, damn! Not wanting to return to the bedroom and see Sean again, Becky strode on.
She walked and walked, hardly noticing a thing as she grumbled and fretted to herself. She reached the edge of the town and carried on walking; not paying attention to where she was going, she made randon turns to left and right, and eventually the paved roads petered out into dirt paths, and still Becky strode on in her flimsy sandals, squinting with the sun and the sweat that was dripping into her eyes.
By the middle of the afternoon, Becky was hopelessly lost and close to swooning with hunger and the overpowering heat, but she stumbled on. A sudden sharp pain almost doubled her over, and she stood clutching her stomach. Shit, I should have had breakfast, she swore under her breath, mistaking the pain for a hunger pang.
Perhaps a trifle unwisely, Becky decided to run, in an attempt to find the nearest house or village in which she could find a morsel to eat. Before long the inevitable happened, and she twisted her ankle on a stone and fell heavily, banging her head and knocking herself blissfully unconscious.
June 1, 2008 at 12:10 am #918In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
When Phurt awoke, it was all dark and the soil was sodden and drenched and she was all wet to the tips of her fine black and white hair. Her pairs of eyes blinked as a bright lightening illuminated the whole place.
It looked like a forest, and though everything was silent now safe the sound of the cyclone, she could tell there was water not very far, and that place had all aspects of a body of land surrounded by waters.
Jumping on her fine legs, she took a look around, looking for any clue… where she could start to build her new nest. The little ones would be soon requiring her attention, and she would have to secure a perimeter for them and herself. Who knew what unknown danger was looming in this unknown place?
As if answering her silent question, a thunder rolled into the sky opening it in two in a flash of a thunderbolt, revealing somewhere in the less dense parts of the forest, a protruding tip of what seemed a huge white dome-like structure.
That would be perfect indeed…Coming from it, a shriek suddenly filled her ears, parts of which where so clearly in the ultrasounds part of the spectrum that she could hear it perfectly…
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-ah!
Glo was beaming.
— Aye, I think we got them all the nasty buggers!
— Good riddance! Good thing we took off our clothes, with all that nasty pomegranate juice everywhere
— Odd that those magpies gushed all bloody purple blood everywhere
— Odd indeed, now ye mention it, Sha
— What’s that “indeed” business all about now? Speaking like a bloddy ascended being are ye? Sharon said while readjusting her bra.
— Ascended beings my tits, never ‘ere when ye need them… Now, look at all this purple juice stains now, ruined all our beauty treatments…
— So what we gonna do of this UV lamp now? Sharon asked
— Odd lamp… Looks more a skull than a lamp to me, Sha…
— Yeah, they got bizarrest tastes ‘ere, with that clever doctor…
— Sure, that one obviously doesn’t know how to put lipstick properly, now you say it…
— UV skull-shaped lamps now… Next thing we know, we got magpies’ Bloody Margies
— Bloody Margies! Ya’re so smart Sha, ahahaha!
— I reckon we better keep it safe… Poor Vessie seems to have much on her plate with that sexy Italian… don’t want to make another bloddy blunder …
— Ya’re the brain, I reckon Sha. Let’s find Mavis and have some snacks… That honeystuff in the fridge was sooo addictiveMay 20, 2008 at 11:46 am #904In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The portal has opened, we must hurry said Araili
Araili had felt something more, that he didn’t want to share yet with Akita and his spirit dog Kay. He had felt that something, or someone was trying to make its way from the wortex. However, the whole area was tightly held in a sort of quarantine by the giant spiders. Their genetic ancestral memory was aware of previous huge bleedthroughs like this one, and they had what humans would call “prophecies” amongst their kin, of such occurrences being heralds of tremendous upheavals.
Araili, who was extending far beyond this guise of a lynx that he had taken now, smiled when he thought of how some of his earthly medieval focuses would have been similarly frightened by natural events like eclipses.It did not take long to them to find Anita’s parents. They were right at the spot that the big arachnid had just left, wrapped in silky spider bandages with little skin left to breathe.
— They seem alive. checked Akita. Heavily sedated, but alive… Now, we’ll have to get them out of here quick.
— I think I have an idea smiled Araili.Claude had finally came out of what he thought was just a strange tree, but then, his preternatural senses where telling him something was wrong. This place looked different. No, this place felt different.
And smelt different too.There were soft sounds, crawlings he could hear, very near his place. They were coming from him, but he would fight.
He jumped on a tree, and in a few vigorous movements, was perched on top of it.
He almost gapped when he saw the black circle of huge spiderly creatures around his tree.They were staying at a distance from the wortex. But for how long… He couldn’t wait for his death.
From the top of the tree, Claude jumped unscathed. Taking a look around, he found exactly what he needed.
Breaking a few sharp bamboos poles, he started his move to the black circle in a prodigious and accelerated run.From atop a nearby tree, Armelle was considering the whole scene. The wortex would probably last a few hours, perhaps a bit more. Anita, Rafaela and Yuki were about to be here soon, she had warned them of the spider circle, so that they would hide until she has found them a way to get through.
She had not expected someone to come out of it. That may be her way…
Phurt was coming closer and closer now. She could feel the surge of power, and the trepidation raising all the hair on her legs. She couldn’t possibly confront all of the sisters. Not yet.
She had to find a way to get past.As if Arachneiax, Goddess of her kind had heard and answered her plea, a dying cry, confusion, and call for help came to her senses from a border of their circle. A perfect diversion…
May 10, 2008 at 6:14 pm #851In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
“Wow, it was starting to become a hell of a smoky place place in there!” Al was thinking. “Better bugger off before I get asphyxiated” as a tornado of numbers and probable numbers of plans started to whirl in a tornado coming in his direction.
Poof he was back home.
“At least, Becky was home…” he said to apparently no one. “So I suppose everything is alright now.”
You should have listened to me Al sweetie, Tina answered, while brushing her luscious hair in the bathroom. I’ve told you Becky was fine. Though I wonder where that strange reindeer-legs-addicted chaperon of hers disappeared…
March 19, 2008 at 9:38 am #806In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
By the end of the day, Bea had all but forgotten the strange dream snap-phrase. She climbed into bed and stretched her legs out between the cool crisp sheets with a contented sigh of pleasure. She picked up her dream journal from the bedside table and opened it at random:
Plenty of parking on the coastal regions of the self…
Must have been wild in Jamaica in the fifties….
Eye of Horus, Write it down! ……
One man went to mow a scattered lettuce…..
What! Bea sat up with a frown of consternation. A scattered lettuce! Singular! Not ‘scattered lettuces’, ONE scattered lettuce! I wonder if it matters? I wonder if all the interpretations were all wrong? Sheesh, what a silly mistake! I wonder if it MATTERS?!
IT MATTERS NOT, said the voice in her head, with an amused chuckle.
At the sound of the familiar voice, Bea relaxed, and smiling, fell into the other world of dreams.
March 18, 2008 at 8:49 am #802In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Bea stretched and yawned, and threw the bedcovers back. The early morning sun was streaming in the windows, catching the coloured glass bottles and crystals on the windowsill and making rainbow mice scamper over the floor. Horus, the Siamese cat, crouched with tail swishing, ready to pounce.
Bea sat up and swung her legs out of bed, feeling around with her feet for her slippers; a rainbow mouse crawled up her leg.
“Ouch! For fuck’s sake, Horus!”
Horus stared at Bea, unperturbed, and then yowled, asking for breakfast.
“Come on then Horus, let’s go and put the coffee on, are you hungry? Lovely day again! I wonder if Leonora’s up yet; doubt it! Come on then, hut hut!”
Bea wasn’t sure why she always said ‘Hut Hut’ to the cat, but Horus seemed to know what she meant, and followed her into the kitchen.
“Oh, it’s Eggleton painting day today, Horus!” Bea said to the cat, noticing the big basket of eggs on the kitchen table, For the Eggleton Hunt on Thursday.
Horus yowled and twisted himself through Bea’s legs.
“Ok Ok!” she replied, and opened a can of BocaBits with Atun. For herself, she made a large mug of black coffee with plenty of sugar, and lit a cigarette.
With the third lungful of smoke, Bea recalled a strange snatch of dream, and started to sing:
One man went to mow , went to mow a meadow,
One man two man and his dog
Went to mow a meadow……“Oh!” Bea said “I wrote something down in the night!” She went to the bedroom to get her dream journal.
“One man went to mow scattered lettuces.”
One man went to mow scattered lettuces? HUH? That doesn’t make any sense. I wonder if Leo can work it out, she’s good with clues…
“Leo! LEO! OY, Leo, whaddya make of this here dream snap-phrase then?” Bea barged into Leo’s bedroom and prodded the sleeping bulk.
“Wha wha whazzat!” Leo woke up with a start. “Bloody ‘ell, Bea! You woke me up! I was having a lovely dream about rabbits, an’ all……”
“One man went to mow scattered lettuces; what do you make of that? “ Bea asked, as she plonked herself down on Leo’s bed with a bounce that made the bed springs squeak.
Leo frowned, instantly awake now and intrigued with the clue. To Bea she said, “Get me a cup of coffee and a fag, and I’ll google it.”
Horus, having disinterestedly licked some of the juice off his Bocabits, jumped onto Leo’s lap as she typed the word lettuce into the search window. He jumped onto the desk, knocking a well worn paperback copy of Seth Speaks onto the floor, and on impulse, Leo added the words ‘Horus’ and ‘Seth’.
March 1, 2008 at 10:17 pm #778In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Meanwhile, Becky was still connecting strongly to the Laughing Monk, Schnortz, from ancient Kuzhebar. Reciting another limerick to herself, she made her way across the flooded street, attracted to a warm and cozy looking cafe on the other side.
“The goat floating secret is this”
Nanaconda butts in with a hiss.
“Stretch out in the sun!
Relax and have fun;
Now come here and give me a kiss”The flood water rushed past Becky’s ankles, causing her to stagger. Unidentified floating debris bumped the back of her legs and she almost buckled.
“Well then, what shall we do now, Deliria?”
Asked a white faced and trembling Wisteria.
“Go for the kiss?
Or give it a miss?”
Replied she, “Let’s consult Wikipedia.”Becky reached the other side of the street relatively unscathed and headed towards the Wisteria Garden Internet Cafe.
February 20, 2008 at 10:57 pm #735In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The last words of the stranger were still resonating in his mind. Franiel was feeling a bit drowsy and he had the odd sensation of being looked from the inside. A smile illuminated the face of the man.
You are the weirdest man I ever saw. he said in a sigh. When he realized what he had told his guest, he blushed with shame. I’m sorry, I wouldn’t mean…
Hahahahaha. The man was slapping on his legs. Hahahaha, my dear Franiel, you don’t know how close to the truth you are. I appreciate when one speak his heart.Franiel couldn’t say anything. He was aware that he should have been feeling shameful, but the laugh of the stranger had dissipated that convention. He was just feeling in harmony with his creation. This last thought surprised him. His creation? He’d been told that the gods created all that is on the Duane, her sister the Murtuane and their ghostly sister the Phrëal.
What was in the nectar? I’m seeing things. He frowned. Something in the surrounding objects, the mossy rocks and the earthly path, the grass and the insects flying or crawling around. The colors were different. Your eyes… they are… blue…
The stranger was still smiling, not saying anything, and though Franiel was feeling as if he was communicating him important things.
Something leapt from behind a tawheowheo, making the nearby dandelion seeds fly away silently.
The creature was barking and Franiel jumped on his feet, making the chalice fall in the dust. It was similar as a mountain wolf, but smaller. Black and fuzzy. And it was running toward him.Don’t be afraid of Moufle, he’s my long life companion, he’s been following me in my exploration for quite some time in a form or another. He makes a lot of noise, but he knows his friends.
Moufle was trying to lick Franiel’s face. All the love he had felt a second before was shaded by the need to keep the animal away. Not that he was dangerous. The stranger… what was his name? He didn’t tell him his name. Franiel was too shy in his normal state to dare ask directly. But he could at least relax as Moufle was now occupied with his master, who spoke as if he’d read his mind.
I am not his master, you see. he was fondling his companion. He’s just choosing to come with me.
He kept silent for a minute, snooting around.By the way, my name is Leonard.
February 20, 2008 at 12:05 am #727In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
The cave was silent, except for the sounds of water springing from one of the wall.
The night was long and full of dreams. Georges and Salome were here since a few weeks now, and the were spending a lot of time with Malvina, talking about many things from different places that Irtak had never heard of. One was called New York City, another was called Vienna, another was the Smoo Cave and there were so many more… Malvina seemed to know most of them. That was the first time he ever wondered how old she could be. Since his arrival here, it had never come to his mind that she could be “old”. He knew she was wiser than most of the Elders, but she seemed so young.She had magic. Maybe that was the key to her youth.
He felt Heckle and Jeckle stretching their attention in their dream state. Their bodies were lying together on the warm sandy floor, and their light bodies were playing around. He could see them flickering in and out of the room. He could follow them if he wanted, but his mind was full of the places their guests had described.
Georges and Salome were lying on an improvised bed, made of a snoot fur on the warm sandy floor. He was holding her tenderly. Their energy gently merged in a single movement. They were fully opened to one another and Salome was creating an inner landscape for them both to play in. Sam’s body was lying nearby, and her spirit was frolicking around in this inner landscape.
They were sitting in the center of a clearing, at night time. The sky was full of stars and Georges did recognized the sky of the Murtuane. An owl was hooting not far away, sated after her hunt. They could feel her contentment, the hunt was good, several big mice tonight…
Malvina was with them, and appreciating of the environment. She had had few occasions of going to the Murtuane herself. Even though she was so close, living on the Duane, its planetary sister.
— Where are we exactly? asked Malvina.
— Not so far away from the purple beach of Kandulim where Jarvis once came. Jarvis is a focus of Georges. And he surprised me once… Salome recalled that event with amusement.
Georges grinned widely and chuckled.
— Yes, I can remember.Malvina sighed with relief.
— You are aware that my sisters are coming soon to the cave.
— Yes, we could feel the calling, so to speak. This is the crossroad of many probabilities, and it is connected to many, though not as spread as the shift in “our” dimension is or was, depending on when you project your attention.
It was Malvina’s turn to grin now.
— Yes, I am aware. It will be soon time for us to move the cave into another location.SPOTCH
OH! THAT’S WHERE YOU THREE HAVE BEEN ALL THIS TIME? INTERESTING ARRANGEMENT OF YOUR PSYCHE. THOUGH I PREFER MY CAVE.
SPOOTCH
Sam got on her legs and barked, quite surprised by this sudden blinking in and out of the dragon.
— HAHAHA, we didn’t even have the time to seem surprised. said Georges. Lëormn was quick. And he likes being in himself.
Salome got on her feet and stroked Sam playfully. The dog was licking her face with affection, and stopped suddenly. She seemed to have heard something.
The owl hooted again.
— My sisters are closer than what I first thought. This owl is an aspect of Oorlaith. Malvina’s gaze became distant for a few seconds. She won’t come tonight with us, though she gives you her fond appreciation. She’s currently busy with a man you already know… Leonard. Another one like yourself
Salome raised one eyebrow.
— Leonard his here too? That’s an interesting informationthings won’t be dull with him if I dare say so.
— I think he’s got a crush on her. He’s doing some stuffs for her at times… and he’s still with his dog.
Sam barked a few times, waggling her tail and Georges grinned.
— You remember Moufle, eh!? Well, do you know where you’re going Malvina?She looked at him intensely and then at Salome.
— You might be surprised.February 9, 2008 at 6:12 pm #685In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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?
February 8, 2008 at 11:41 pm #684In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
« … local time in Sydney is 5:55 PM, temperature on the ground is 55°F (23°C)… »
— Seems like five fives… a hazy Mavis emerging from a heap of plane sheets said, still with her yellow hand-knitted blindfold on her eyes, probably for herself more than for the benefit of her bedazzled neighbours.
As no one was answering, she continued her monologue while the man near her was looking embarrassed, avoiding the gaze of the cackling woman.
— You know, I’ve always got lots of fives in my life, I was the fifth girl of my family, born May 5 th, “Mavis”, my first name’s got five letters, and the coincidences go on and on, once you think of it, that is positively amazing, I daresay. German say five is “fünf”, so for me, it’s fun and play, when I put that in perspective… Still better to have that kind of outlook on these coincidences as they are piling up so well, don’t you think…Still getting no answer from them, she continued imperturbably.
— Oh, great, we are arrived… That journey was exhausting, not that I lacked any sleep for that matter, but you know, my legs got all swollen, and my bladder is playing tricks on me… Good thing I had these socks, you see, the vendor told me they were perfect for long-haul plane trips, not that I can see any difference anyway… Worse thing, if you ask me, was that rushing through the Japanese airport… I would not have made it without the help of this Spanish couple. Man was kind enough to push me on a trolley to the boarding gate… Now, where is this lovely couple,… hope they didn’t leave without me. It seems we all go to the same destination, how funny isn’t it? An angelic spa in a heavenly island… Sounds lots of fun… I can’t wait to see my friends here!
Mavis was now standing on the seat of the plane, to get a better outlook on the back of the plane, for any chance to see Jose Maria and Paquita, while most of the other travelers were in a rush to go outside, already reaching for their bags and switching on their mobile phones. Truly, as stout and short as she was, standing on the seat hardly made any difference, for she was barely able to see past the high seat, but she finally got what she wanted.
— WOOOHOOO! I’M HERE! she started to wave at the couple, busy reaching for their belongings.
January 20, 2008 at 7:33 pm #672In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
Twilight was in a reflective frame of mind. She had felt real sad saying goodbye to her brothers, and that Blue Bull Elroy had won was worrying away at her. She’d had a dream about it the other night, the bull had got loose and it was all her doing. Well she didn’t remember much more than that about the dream, but it left her with a worried feeling.
What is is honey? asked Mama Belle , who had been watching the quiet girl and had seen the shadow pass over her face.
Oh it aint nothing much, I am just being addled brained. I were thinking about my brothers.
Well honey, you just say your prayers for them at night, and leave them to the Good Lord to mind out for. One thing don’t do nobody no good ever is worrying.
Do you believe in God, Mama Belle?
Mama Belle chuckled. Sure I believe in God, even though all my life people said I must be born of the devil to get this way. Her eyes took on a faraway look. When I was little my mother said to me, “God must sure love you Belle. He knows you one of his special children to give you such a hard testing in life. He knows you can take it.” Well I took that to heart, and fact is, far as I know, we only got one shot at this life. So I might as well make the best of things I reckon. The sun still shines on Belle honey, don’t you worry.
Must be hard for the sun to get through all that hair though, thought Twilight, feeling a bit sad for what her friend had been through.
Them’s the freaks I reckon, those ones that pay just to come and have a look see.
Dear Elroy and Jo
I am having a fine time here, meeting some real nice folks. Mr Elson has got a plan to put some of my dancing in the show, in an act along with Bleep and Flop, that’s two of the little folks, Bleep is only 3 foot high, and Flop is not much more than a few inches taller. Well it will be fun and it means I will get paid more than just minding them babies.
Felix Otterworthy, or they call him “the Otter Man” on account of the fact he ain’t go no legs, is a very learned gentleman. He has said he will help me some with my writing if I would like. Well, that is probably the thing I feel most excited about. He read one of my stories, and said it showed “some potential”.
So it is all going fine. I can hear them now doing the first call of the day, so this is a short letter for now.
My friend Mama Belle says I should pray for you boys. I said, “I reckon them two are beyond help”.
Well I am only making fun, got to go now, Be sure and write me something back.
lots of love Twi
ROLL UP! ROLL UP! WELCOME TO FABULOUSLY GREAT FREAKUS CIRCUS! THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH! See extraordinary acts and amazing feats! COME AND MEET THE FREAKS! See the Man with Two Heads, yes that’s what I said, TWO HEADS. Meet the ugliest woman that ever walked the face of the earth, that’s if you can stand to look at her! ROLL UP! ROLL UP!
Another day at the circus was starting.
January 2, 2008 at 5:44 pm #622In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
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…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…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…November 18, 2007 at 5:13 am #446In reply to: Circle of Eights, Stories
About time you woke up, came a familiar grumpy voice from behind a pile of logs. Mandrake emerged. And I don’t have fur balls, he added, haughtily.
Mandrake, thank God! Arona had been a little concerned that , given the amount of time presumably had passed, Mandrake may no longer be with them. Tactfully she kept this to herself, given Mandrake’s especially truculent mood.
Please tell me what happened now, she said to Vincentius. I think I am ready to hear.
Vincentius looked uncertain, sighed , but agreed to tell her the tale. Afterwards, Arona was silent for quite some time. She stared thoughtfully at the fire, mesmerised by the dancing flames, gently stroking Mandrakes silky black coat.
Oh bugger, she said eventually and stood up decisively. I really think I have to go and see that old lizardy croney woman, and without delay.
I wish you wouldn’t, but I do understand, said Vincentius sadly.
I don’t understand, said Mandrake crossly, twitching his tail impatiently and narrowing his green eyes
Arona went over to the sleeping Yikesy and studied him with fond interest. He is not getting any better looking with age is he? She kissed him tenderly on the cheek and whispered in his ear.
Thank you so much for caring for him, she said to Vincentius and gave him a huge hug.
On the way out of the cave she ran into Leormn.
Oh, she said, Vincentius said you allowed us to use the room. Thank you so much. And she kissed Leormn on what she thought would be his cheek, however, a little unsure of Dragon anatomy, it may have been technically a snout or something.
Arona walked rapidly for several hours, trying to concentrate on the directions given to her by Vincentius and hoping that she was headed in the right direction. Eventually she started to tire and her determination faded. She sat down on a rock and closed her eyes. Her shoulders slumped in weariness and she despondently wished she was back in the cave with the others. She felt deeply sad.
And is this something you really must face? asked a kindly voice in her head.
I have no idea really, she answered despairingly. I don’t know. I mean I thought I knew. I thought if I didn’t then I would always be in fear. When I looked into the flames of the fire it all seemed clear. I needed to understand and face it, I thought anyway….
hmmm, said the voice. Well the best advice I can give you is to trust yourself.
Arona opened her eyes and saw, to her surprise, a small cottage in the distance. Why, I don’t remember that cottage being there a moment ago, she thought. It looks just as Vincentius described. How remarkable. I was closer than I thought! Her spirits rose.
Outside the cottage the old crone was bent over, digging in a small vegetable plot. A basket of cabbages sat by her side. She stood up at Arona’s approach, wiping the dirt from her gnarly hands on her apron.
Hello Arona, she cackled. I have been expecting you. I don’t believe we were properly introduced last time. My name is Lucille. And she held out a hand for Arona to shake.
I have come to get some answers from you, said Arona, firmly crossing her arms and ignoring the outstretched hand.
Lucille sighed and dropped her hand. Her pointy chin quivered, and Arona noticed a big wart, with one thick black hair growing out of it, right on the tip of lucille’s chin. She tried not to stare.
Alright little one, Lucille said soflty. Why don’t you go and wait in the orchard. I will go and fix us a nice, cool drink of lemonade.
The orchard was full of old fruit trees, their twisted trunks reminded Arona of Lucille herself. From one of the trees hung an old swing. Arona sat on it, holding the rope, and gently rocked herself back and forwards, thinking. She had to admit, she was, quite frankly puzzled. The visit so far wasn’t going as expected.
She kept rocking, faster now.
She hit her heels into the hard earth again and again.
I don’t know. She tried to dig these words into the earth with her heels.
Then she sidestepped her feet in crab-like movements in diminishing circles. The ropes of the swing twisted tighter and tighter.
Arona leant backwards and stuck her legs out straight in front of her. The ropes unwound and sent her spinning. weeeeeeeeeeee hoooooooooooooooo!
She looked up into the sky. Blue sky through the trees with racing spinning clouds. She felt dizzy.
She stood up and braced herself against the seat of the swing. She held onto the ropes and pushed hard against the seat beneath her. She bent her knees under the swing. She kicked her feet forwards.
She wanted to go higher. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them outwards. She stretched her body backwards and arched her back.
I don’t know, she whispered.
She sat upright. She bent her legs back under the swing. Then kicked them as hard as she could. She leant her body backwards. She stretched as far as she could. On the rebound her heels hit the ground hard, but still she wanted to keep going higher and higher.
I DON’T KNOW! she shouted, as loudly as she could.
Lucille returned with the lemonade.
How do I know if it is safe to drink this? Arona asked. You have cast one spell on me, how am I to know this is not another?
Lucille cackled. Dear little Arona, she said, if I wanted to cast a spell on you I would have done it before now.
Okay, well that makes good sense, thought Arona, gratefully drinking the lemonade.
October 18, 2007 at 9:13 am #1448In reply to: Talks on the latest Instalments
http://www.north-of-africa.com/article.php3?id_article=418
This might be a better link for the comment about the connection between Egypt and Tuaregs
as well as the Egypt connection :
At Jabbaren, he found a city with alleys, cross-roads and squares. The walls were covered with hundreds of paintings. Jabbaren is a Tuareg word meaning “giants” and the name refers to the paintings found inside the city, some of which depict human figures that are indeed gigantic in size. One of them measured up to eighteen feet high. Several of these paintings depicted “Martians” and for Lhote, it was the first time he discovered paintings of hundreds of oxen. Jabbaren was soon labelled one of the oldest sites of the Tassili.
I think the mummy may be 6 meters tall………(Rahim told me that the tombs there were extraordinarily long….and we did have a giant enter the story ….)
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AND: The Tassili n’Ajjer
…..the Hoggar Mountains and the Tassili n’Ajjer, one of the most enchanting mountain ranges on this planet……
There were largely two forms of rock paintings, distinguishable by the location in which they were found. Some were found in rock shelters, such as at Aouanrhet. These sites were where the shaman performed his divination, as the face of a rock was often seen as a doorway to another dimension (another parallel with the paintings in the French caves).
(this reminds me of Oversoul Seven! # book by Jane Roberts)
Though one could interpret their location as the work of a nomadic people, Lhote’s team also found several urban settlements.
He found small concentrations of human activity around Tan-Zoumiatak in the Tin Abou Teka massif. It was a little rocky citadel that dominated the gorge below. The citadel was cut through with a number of narrow alleys. Lhote described the art he found here as: “There were life-size figures painted in red ochre, archers with muscular arms and legs, enormous ‘cats’, many scenes with cattle, war-chariots and so forth. Up to this time I had never seen figures of this sort in the Tassili and the mass of paintings that I managed to view that day quite put into the shade all those I had seen up to then.”more:
http://www.philipcoppens.com/tassili.html
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ENORMOUS CATS??????
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