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  • #756

    Franiel awoke, it took him a few moments to get his bearings. He stretched, and slowly adjusted to his waking state. He wondered how long he had slept, it was quiet and dark. Although he couldn’t see much, he could feel that dawn was not far away. The ghost hour.

    He must have slept for hours.

    Remembering Leonard he looked around and softly called out. There was no reply, and unless Leonard was sleeping, Franiel was alone. “Aye” he sighed, and finding the blanket from his pack, fashioned it into a tent over his head and took shelter in it. It was nearly day, another day.

    Thinking of his encounter with Leonard, the strange dancing and especially the sweet taste of the nectar, Franiel reached into his pack again to retrieve the chalice.

    It is no longer there

    Franiel was not quite sure if he heard a voice utter these words, or if it was just a strange sense of knowing. He still felt around, taking out each item carefully and methodically, emptying the pack, not really wanting to believe the chalice has gone, nor to consider what the implications of this loss might be.

    Perhaps he did not put the chalice back in the pack after all? He crawled around his surrounds, squinting into the half light of the morning, feeling the dew damp ground. Deciding to trust what he knew in his heart already he sat back and quietly watched as the sky eventually flushed brilliant crimson.

    Red sky in the morning. A warning ….it is only weather words but ….

    Reluctant to consider his options, he instead considered some dandelions, how luminous they looked in the morning light.

    #755

    — “Sha! I think I’ve had one of them bloody brainwaves of mine!”

    — “You are the smart one Glor … ‘ang on, I’ll just light my fag then I can listen proper.”

    — “Well you know how Vessie has been so good to us and I still feel a bit awful about breaking that bloody door down.”

    — “We meant well though Glor. Our hearts were in the right places.”

    — “They were Sha … but then her bloke being there and all …. well that dress she was wearing Sha, it barely covered her privates.”

    — “She’s a native girl though Glor,” Sharon giggled, “She’d have grown up wearing them little grass skirts and not much else I reckon …. mind she’s ever so nice though ain’t she.”

    — “Oh she is …. and there’s nowhere to buy clothes on this bloody island neither, she must have to make do, bless ‘er little ‘eart.”

    — “It could do with a mall I reckon Glor,” said Sharon reflectively, “this place would really take off if there was a small mall.”

    — “I think you’re onto something there Sha, oh that would be bloody marvellous I reckon, a small mall.”

    — “Anyway what’s your brainwave then Sha? I’m all agog with curiousness.”

    — “Well I reckon with all the eating and lying around we’ve been doing I’ve gained a bit…. what do you reckon Sha?”

    — “You might have done a bit Glor,” said Sharon eyeing her friend thoughtfully, “you can carry a bit extra though, and it goes to all the right places on you, you look right sexy, I reckon our Harry would think so anyway”

    — “Oh give over Sha! “ Gloria blushed and giggled. “Anyway back to my brainwave … well that Vessie is quite slim … “

    — “A bit on the skinny side really, Glor, needs a bit of meat on them bones of ‘ers to be what you would call proper sexy like us, and very tall with it ain’t she.”

    — “Yes athletical, most of them island girls are I reckon. Anyway, listen up Sha, a few of my things ain’t been fitting so well and …and ‘ere’s my master plan Sha …Da da ….” she paused dramatically, “I thought I could hunt out something nice for Vessie!”

    — “Oh that’s bloody genius Glor! you’ve got a real kind heart you ‘ave! You’re a bloody saint even … did you ‘ave something special in mind?”

    — “Did I what Sha!” Gloria’s eyes were shining with delight at her own generosity. “You remember that pink frock, the one I wore when you and Harry got ‘itched, with the wee roses on it. Well I bought it with me! I thought you daft fool! when I packed it, what you taking that bloody thing for? … I reckon it was my psychic abilities I got ‘anded down from my Aunty Philly, God rest her soul, made me bring it.”

    — “Oh you’ve still got that frock! That were bloody gorgeous …. well bless your bloody heart Glor!”

    — “Well its got sentimentical value of course,” said Glor looking serious. Her voice lowered, “ Between you and me though Sha, I do feel for that poor girl. I mean she’s pretty enough .. but she’s got no bloody idea how to make the best of what she’s got. It’d be a bit on the short side mind …. but I don’t think she’d mind that, not if that last dress is anything to go by, and I’m right handy with the needle and thread if it needs any fixing” she paused for a moment thinking, “Sha! I think I’ve ‘ad another bloody brainwave! We could give her a full beauty makeover, the bloody works, with all our beauty know-how … that lippy she was wearing ..” her voice trailed off and she shook her head sadly.

    — “Wrong shade of red weren’t it,” Sharon nodded understandingly. “She’s going to have to make a bit more effort if she’s to keep that bloke of hers.”

    — “Well I’ll ‘ave him any day,” giggled Gloria

    — “Oh you’re bloody wicked, you are Glor! If your Joe could ‘ear you now! …. ‘ere you’ll ‘ave to fight me for ‘im though! … ere,” she said looking around and lowering her voice conspiratorily, “maybe we could have one of them threesomes!”

    — “Oh stop Sha, you’re too bloody much you are!” spluttered Gloria, barely able to control her mirth. “Serious now though Sha, that Vessie might be a bit overcome and shy like, with all our generousness and kindheartedness, we have to make sure she knows we ain’t taking NO for a bloody answer!”

    #751

    Why you supercilious little prout! said the Mummy

    Steady on Sasha, I don’t think I deserve that. I am a great believer in personal choice. You chose to be part of my experiments didn’t you? Did anyone force you to come here? His voice started to raise petulently. Are you a victim Sasha? Just because one small thing went wrong, an accident, no more and no less.

    If it wasn’t for these damn bandages I would laugh.

    Dr Bronkelhampton threw his hands in the air in vexation. Try and see the big picture Sasha dear. How many times have I told you now? My God we have been through this over and over again. Are you listening Sasha? All you can think about is yourself and your own petty little life. You are dead, you need to accept this and move on.

    Silence.

    Sasha? … Talk to me Sasha dear one.

    Dr Bronkelhampton? Nurse Bellamy tapped lightly on the office door, and entered cautiously. She could hear Chris talking to himself, again. It was nothing new, he spent hours closeted in his office lately. Though today she started in shocked surprise when she saw him, the yellow wig from the early days of the clinic was perched precariously on top of his bald head, garish make-up roughly applied, yet not hiding the dark blue circles under his blood-shot eyes.

    He glared at her. Can you not see I am with a client, Nurse Bellamy?

    She cast her eyes reflexively around the small office, although she did not need to look. It was bare save for a pot plant and that dreadful mummy propped up in the corner of the room.

    I am worried about you, Chris.

    He slammed his fist on the desk and turned away from her, staring moodily out the window.

    Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened with emotion, she struggled to hold back her tears as all the anxiety of the last week threatened to overwhelm her. She reminded herself of the words of her dear nursing tutor Edwardo Lemenox. Always remember your calling as a nurse. When the road seems difficult, take a deep breath and remind yourself you are perfect.

    She took a deep breath.

    I am sorry, I mean Dr Bronkelhampton … I need to inform you that three new clients are expected tomorrow …. and we have two here waiting for their treatment to start … and I can’t entertain them for much longer, they are getting restless. Veranassessee is up to no good, and, Nurse Bellamy pursed her lips for a moment in annoyance .. and now she has a gentleman friend here.

    Dr Bronkelhampton turned towards her quickly, the wig falling off in the process, She has a gentleman friend? Here on the island? Who?

    Nurse Bellamy’s face reddened even more as she remembered her encounter with the drop-dead gorgeous stranger, the way he had looked into her eyes as he asked where he might find Veranassessee, goodness, she had nearly dropped her coconuts.

    #742

    Due to the unusual events in the year 2026, Nishanti and her five sisters lived in the reconstructed ancient city of Hingapooloopi that had been submerged beneath the ocean for centuries. There had been a series of tsunami’s and eathquakes and volcanic eruptions resulting in an enormous hole appearing in the sea bed into which a considerable amount of Indian Ocean sea water had disappeared, lowering the sea levels in some locations, mainly those that had risen slightly due to shifting tectonic plates.

    Ten year old Nishanti and her five sisters (Hinni, 3; Yaso, 5; Yuvani, 7; Eromi, 13; and Nanda, 16) had lost their parents, and indeed most of their relatives, due to an unfortunate mishap in the kitchens two years previously in the year 2032 at the wedding party of their brother, Chandra. Gayesh, Nishanti’s eldest brother had mistakenly included poisonous red berries in the desert. Fortunately, Nishanti and her sisters had been reading the Snoot Q&A column in The Tarty Nun girls magazine that they had procured without their parents knowledge from a school trip of American tourists, in which Snoot had advised against red fruits.

    Hingapooloopi was located on the land bridge , once again exposed, between Sri Lanka and the Indian continent. The reconstruction had been an enormously interesting undertaking, and Nishanti’s uncle Roshan had been involved in the ground work excavations. He found many artifacts, which he smuggled off the building site, and secreted under the floorboards of the old family home in the highlands . Perhaps the most interesting one was the crystal skull; certainly it was the one that Nishanti found the most intriguing.

    #1459
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      I am delighted with mine although not really sure how you would pronounce the surname: Lessien Lúinwë

      #738

      Leonard stood up, stretched, and began to make strange movements with his body, much to the delight of Mouffle who leapt around him joyously barking.

      Are you alright, Leonard? asked Franiel, a little concerned by Leonard’s gyrations. His voice sounded odd to his own ears, as though it came from a spot somewhere behind him. He was even unsure if he had spoken the words out loud.

      Leonard chuckled, and Franiel joined in, though why he did so he was not sure.

      I am very well indeed, thank you, Franiel. I am performing the motional practices of Ancient Kuzhebar aborigines. It is an excellent technique for straightening the mind. Perhaps you would like to join me?

      Although I am sure my mind would benefit from straightening, perhaps I will just watch for now, said Franiel, feeling a persuasive tiredness sweep over his body. It must be the nectar, he mused. He lay back on the grassy verge, and though he tried his hardest, he found it impossible to keep his eyes open. I will close them just for a moment, he thought.

      #732

      Elvira and Boris were knee deep in mushrooms when the strangers appeared asking for food. Visitors were few and far between at the isolated old wooden house, but it was with mixed feelings that Elvira greeted them. It would be wonderful to have a little conversation, some news of the outside world, but this was the busiest time of the year and she hardly had a moment to spare as it was.

      However, she greeted them amiably enough, and invited them inside. Come in, come in, come in! she said, Would you like a cuppa? Are you hungry? There’s some reindeer stew left over from last night.

      Zhana’s stomach growled loudly in response. Would I ever! I am STARVING! Zhana beamed a smile at Elvira.

      Well, sit yourselves down then, if you can find a chair that’s not covered in mushrooms.

      Elvira suddenly had an idea.

      Are you two in a hurry? Would you stay a few days and help with the mushroom packing?

      Zhana looked at Sanso, who nodded. A few days with plenty to eat before their long journey, and a few provisions to take along with them would be perfect.

      Of course we will, we’d be delighted to stay and help, Zhana said to the old lady.

      Splendid! Boris will be so pleased! I’m a great cook, you know, if I do say so myself. As much food as you can eat in return, eh? How does that sound? Elvira smiled at her guests. My, my, girl, what a wonderful complexion you have! she said, peering at Zhana. Like a summer peach!

      Zhana blushed happily, and Sanso beamed.

      #727

      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.

      :fleuron:

      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 information :) things 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.

      #726
      Jib
      Participant

        Going back to work on this bright Tuesday afternoon, Yann was looking at his shadow. He had had a hard morning, not because of the tons of work… it was a rather light day, not because of the harshness of his colleagues, they were all easy living people… well except his boss that made him think of Darth Vador at times… a strong threatening aura, feared by everyone. Though he never bothered Yann actually.

        He was having the weirdest feeling of appreciation of the shape of his shadow.
        He liked it.
        It was the shape of an adolescent, his fluffy hair and relaxed silhouette. Not worrying about the future, not thinking about the past. Just enjoying the warmth of the sun in this not so cold winter day.

        His attention was quite centered on himself, he was aware of much more stimuli than he had been used to, and it had been overwhelming. Especially concerning his ideas of how to get information on certain subjects or how to explore things. He was used to closing himself from the outside when he was focusing on his work, or on what he was passionate. Lately it had been 3D modeling, and Yurick had expressed many times the desire to help him, and he had been received quite harshly.

        No wonder he had imagery of server non-receiving data at work. It was quite clear actually. Clearer and clearer. Even his dreams that he had once considered to be quite obscure where simply so concise and precise. Dreaming about the ring primitive in the 3D software, it was dreaming about its own attention, focused on the outside, he was trying to reduce the inner radius of the ring to make a plain disk, and he wasn’t able to do it properly, he was forcing.

        Well actually he had done quite well, so centered on self he had been today…

        How he reacted was so different from how he would have reacted a few months ago. Now he was just appreciating the movement, the experience of this overwhelming centeredness…

        During the afternoon he got news from his friends Finn and Dory, and he had a good laugh. It was messages sent the day before. He wouldn’t have appreciated them then, but now he was so enthrilled by what they had written with Yurick. Another pure moment of appreciation to add to his experience.

        And now, it was news from their friend Malika who had decided to move into a new house. A taupe House, located in the Island City or Wilton Manors. The house had a tree behind it, and she was sure it was a dragon lair, with a mommy dragon and an egg! and many little playful dragons.
        It was planned for the week end. The moving in, not the hatching…

        Yann promised to be here in spirit and told her friend Malika that there was a small dragon connected to him in the herd.

        #724

        Becky felt revitalized somewhat after breakfast, and decided to go for a walk. Sean was still snoring and mumbling in bed, so she pulled some clothes out of the closet quickly and climbed into them quietly, unable to see clearly in the dark.

        If the pile of wedding gifts on the dining room table hadn’t attracted her attention, she might have looked in the hall mirror, but as it was, she didn’t. It wasn’t until much later, a long way from home, that she realized what she had donned that morning.

        Becky picked up the doll that Patel had given her and grinned. She couldn’t have chosen a more entertaining husband for her mother if she’d chosen him herself. He was such a delightful practical joker, a real hoot, and Becky was very fond of him. She frowned as she turned the strange doll round in her hand, not quite sure what the joke was yet. She was quite sure there would be a laugh in it somewhere though.

        Well, time will tell, she murmured, and headed out of the front door to hail a gondola cab. Shivering as she waited, she thought happily of the honeymoon in Sri Lanka the following week. Becky wondered if they might extend the trip, and visit Sam in Australia.

        #711
        TracyTracy
        Participant

          Oh, Thank Flove for that! exclaimed Becky delightedly, when she looked in the bathroom mirror on the morning of her wedding. The Siberian Blue Mud treatment worked!

          WOW! said Becky as she peered at her reflection. It’s made me look fantastic!

          Indeed, her skin was glowing like a summer peach. She smiled happily and sighed a deep sigh of contentment. She was glad she’d chosen Tina to be the Head Witness for the Russian style wedding ceremony. She knew she could trust her to carry out the ritual joke and poem telling with aplomb. Al and Sam would make great witnesses too. She couldn’t wait to hear their jokes and poems at the wedding party.

          Becky giggled, And Sean will love all the drinking.

          #92
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            :face-glasses: :paperclip: In the timeline tab [for legacy] I’ve added at the bottom a link towards the slightly styled version of the full list of registered events if you want to have them all before your eyes.
            I plan on adding some of the last ones, to help keep track… well, sort of :yahoo_hypnotized:

            #2117

            In reply to: Snooteries

            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Dear Snoot,

              I threw some red fruit away today. A few manky looking cherries. I can see it’s a red fruit sync, but what’s the symbolism? You ate too many; Flove bought some; I threw mine away……

              Hoping you can shed some red light on the fruit story.

              H.R.W.K.

              #1428
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                Ahahaha!! I just noticed that when I linked it to Sanso’s cave…….Oh Ahaha! Is THAT what you meant by congratulating me this morning? :yahoo_oh_go_on:

                I’m delighted that the 1111th comment was in connection with all this marvellous (rats can’t remember the damn name) you know, this Russian stuff…..:yahoo_big_grin:

                #1426
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  Actually, the meaning of snoot in photography is quite interesting too…

                  Snoot: A cone shaped shield used on spotlights to direct a cone of light over a small area.

                  #1892
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Amanita muscaria intoxication typically produces macropsia, which means that the sense of scale is lost, and small objects can look many times their actual size….

                    Coincidentally, my photo blog is a bit macropsiac lately……

                    The above link provides clues to the ‘frozen reindeer meat’ surprise entry.

                    #703

                    So you have requested audience… a deep voice, hoarse as a water’s torrent running and jumping on a river bed smothered with pebbles, asked from the darkness.

                    Midora was not afraid of the darkness. As best as she could explain it, it was the void of creation, where everything came from, and where all was stripped of intrinsic meaning. It was from this place that she could reach for the answers.

                    She knew this place, she felt memories swirling around, as uncatchable as a swarm of short-lived sparkles born from the reddish embers of a dying fire.
                    In this lifetime, she was only a eleven year old girl, but she was as old as this voice within her. There was a time where she was playing with that voice, a time where her being was not yet, and yet a time which was in her future.
                    She was pure consciousness in that dream time space, and yet, she was feeling more comfortable with physical symbols around herself. So she focused on one of the symbols that she knew would help her stabilize her vibration, and in doing so, all the small particles of golden light around her started to swirl and coalesced into a dream body.

                    She was in front of a cave, in a mountainous area. This body provided her a slowing down of the stream of information that came to her, and she could manipulate more efficiently the interaction with that huge presence she felt. The precipitous rocky environment was a symbol of that steadiness and slowing down and also, for her benefit of her beliefs in that acquiring such information might be a difficult task.
                    Now she had identified it, she could more easily dispel the obstacles on the path to the cave. The cave of course, was her symbol for reaching into her deep inner nature. And the darkness was only a fitting blank canvas for herself to project and translate the energy interactions.
                    All of that she knew, as it was knowledge embedded into herself that she could more easily access into this trance-like state, in her room in that location in space and time of 2112 in New Venice. And she knew that also for she was taught by her parents, Bart and Oscar, on how to access it.

                    The voice was inside the cave. And no sooner had she thought of it that she was finding the whole place morphing into a vast room built into the rock, in the middle of which a majestic golden dragon was slowly breathing.
                    She had translated the vast energy as that of a dragon, but she knew when she felt into it that it had possible variations, one of which being that of a she-phoenix, of various sizes, where sizes where symbolic of its age and wisdom.

                    You may call me Naasir the dragon grinned at Midora. You are right, in a sense, you can consider yourself being born from me, though in your true form, you are equally august and splendid as I am. You will, in time, have access to that form, again. But for now, I can provide some answers to your questions. The only thing is… Are your questions up to the challenge? he added with the most benevolent smirk his wide toothed grin could convey.

                    Midora pondered for a moment, beholding the perfection of her translation of the energy. Each scale on the body of the dragon was a work of art. His half-closed eyes, with an amber shiny center, and teal border were equally mesmerizing.

                    :fleuron:

                    — What is the significance of these books I have inherited from my parents?

                    As you know, this place is the place were significance fades away, or radiates, depending on the direction in which you look, only to be replaced by fulfillment. Your… books hence, have no significance, I would say, for me at least. What do you want to know about them?

                    — They were passed from people to people, and as far as I understood, they started to be imprinted with these people’s stories, starting from my grand-parents Indy and Cuthbert. But there are still blank pages inside them, and no seeming order from one page to the other. I think that’s why my grand-parents grew tired of it.

                    Continue…

                    — What I mean is… I feel attracted to them, and yet I don’t understand how they work…

                    These… are not mere books as your ancestors understood them. In fact, they were crafted by a distant civilization, not denizens from this dimension in which you are presently focused, but travelers, with whom you can still interact by means of this device. When the “books” traveled into this dimension, they retained their initial properties and functioning, but their initial shapes were translated into something as close as you could understand so that you would allow them to appear into your reality. This knowing might help you unravel their true nature.

                    Another thing. Books are energy deposits, in your reality. There was a misunderstanding in that they were thought to be able to liber or to free your memory by imprinting it into the pages, but memories are alive and not separate from you. They live as you live and change them. So, the books are still being written, and that which you can read is the part of the book which is the most probable story in which you choose to insert yourself, so as to explore it. You can alter these probabilities, even if you might doubt it, but as you chose them, they are much a part of your design of your reality, that which you chose to explore. In short, a complete book means the end of your exploration, and prompts for a disengagement for you to continue other explorations, and on the contrary, a blank books means a boundless realm of probable explorations.

                    — Can you tell me why there are two of them?

                    They are more than a couple. These ones are the only known ones that your ancestors happen to have found. Most of them have been destroyed over time in this dimension, as their possibilities were heavily cloaked. They are all linked together, as you will find out. You may gather some answers in finding Badul

                    And with that, Midora was once again floating in an intermediate state hung between space and time, longing for her physical body. She woke up strangely energized…

                    #702

                    There was a tantalizing scent of wildflowers and meadowgrass in the still cool air of the cave, and as Sanso rounded a bend in tunnel a gentle breeze ruffled the folds of his robes. He quickened his pace, gladdened by the welcome promise of an adventure outside of the endless labyrinth. The air felt cool and warm at the same time, and deliciously fresh and clean as it wafted towards him, and with a feeling of immense joy, he heard a snatch of birdsong.

                    It seemed like many long years that he’d been trudging around in the gloom and the stale air of the caves, although he suspected it wasn’t as long as that. Time played tricks on him, he knew that, while he was wandering around in the darkness. He’d missed Arona, and that strange baby, when he’d first set off alone again, but not for long. He knew when it was time to move on, and so he’d left them. From time to time he wondered if he’d encounter them again, and knew he would.

                    A shaft of sunlight spilled into the tunnel and Sanso stepped out into the light. The breeze was fluttering the birch leaves high above him, as he squinted up at the pale blue sky. Grinning happily, Sanso took his time adjusting to the light. He sat cross legged on the soft green grass, feeling it springy beneath his hands. Hundreds and thousands of red and yellow spotted toadstools stretched out as far as he could see, carpeting the forrest floor with polkadots of colour.

                    Sanso looked down at his hands. The creases of his skin and under his nails were engrained with reddish dust, and he wanted water more than anything, gurgling bubbling fresh clean water. He stood up, and shook his robes a bit, and set off into the woods.

                    Intuition told him which way to go to find water. He marvelled at tiny flowers, and scampering insects along the way, squashing fungi beneath his bare feet which oozed up through his toes with little squeaky noises.

                    A rabbit ran accross his path and stopped momentarily to stare at him and Sanso laughed out loud.

                    Oh! Who’s there?

                    A girl in bright flowered skirts was sitting on the grass in a clearing just ahead, rubbing her eyes.

                    Whoa, I must be dreaming, she said, and rubbed her eyes again. She peered at the apparition in indigo robes, with skin the colour of tobacco and wild matted hair. Am I dreaming? she asked Sanso.

                    Perhaps, perhaps not, replied Sanso, who wasn’t really sure. I may be dreaming myself. My name is Sanso, anyway, what’s yours?

                    Zhana, the girl replied, Well, Uncle Grishenka calls me Zhanochka, but I…but I….I hate him, and I’m not going back! And much to her surprise, she burst into tears.

                    Sanso was momentarily non-plussed, and wondered what to do next.

                    Well, dear, if you don’t want to go back, why, then don’t go back! He wasn’t quite sure what the problem was; after all, he’d been wandering for so many years on impulse and whim he hardly knew any other way to go about it.

                    I don’t know where to go instead though, Zhana said tearfully. The long dark cold will be here again soon, and I must have shelter somewhere…..who will have me, besides Uncle Grishenka?

                    What long dark cold? asked Sanso. It seemed light enough and warm enough here.

                    Oh, my! Zhana was astonished. You ask me what long dark cold? Where have you come from? How is it you don’t know of the long dark cold? Oh! Are you from Nishanti’s place?

                    Zhana stood up in some considerable excitement. Can you take me to Nishanti’s place? Oh please say yes!

                    Well, I, er, um…..well, I suppose so. Well, yes! Sanso didn’t want to let the girl down, although he wasn’t altogether sure he knew where Nishanti’s place was. But he was game to give it a try, and the company of the girl would be a welcome change.

                    Tell me about Nishanti, then, Zhana, and what her place is like. Sanso was hoping a few clues might ring a bell, perhaps.

                    Nishanti has been my friend for as long as I can remember, Zhana said. We dream together mostly, well, Zhana blushed, Uncle Grishenka says it’s all in my head…he say’s it’s nonsense….

                    Zhana squared her shoulders and carried on. Sanso had a kind look, and nodded encouragingly.

                    She hardly wears any clothes, and her skin is warm and brown. The sun always shines and the sky is always deep blue in her place and we play outside all year long. There’s always warm ripe fruits to eat, not turnips and noodles, colourful juicy berries and plump pink fishy things, and there are flowers all year long, and the water isn’t frozen, we can play in the water and it doesn’t turn our hands blue…..

                    Ah, the other side of the world…hhhmmm…..Sanso rubbed his whiskery chin thoughtfully.

                    Ok, I can’t promise we can find Nishanti, but I think we can find the other side of the world. But first, I’d like to find some water, and perhaps a little fresh food?

                    Zhana whooped with delight, and flung her arms around Sanso. Yes, yes!

                    #694
                    TracyTracy
                    Participant

                      Uncle Grishenka scowled. The fire had gone out and the kettle was cold. He sat down on the stool beside the grate, his grizzled chin resting on his stained shirtfront, his clumsy gnarled hands hanging in his lap. Nothing in his dull slow brain suggested to him that he might light the fire himself. Zhanochka hadn’t kept the fire going and so there was no fire.

                      Grishenka continued to sit, and scowl.

                      #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?

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