Daily Random Quote

  • Well, Illi thought, I could shelter under this heavy cape, but what would be the point of that? It’s smelly and dark under there, at least the rain is light and clean. What I need to find is a cave. I’ll create a cave to find! Wouldn’t be much fun to just create a cave, Illi reasoned, ... · ID #149 (continued)
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  • #1162
    ÉricÉric
    Keymaster

      Rneyl ba na Bpgbore zbeavat. Gurer vf gur cebzvfr bs urng va gur fxl ohg sbe abj rirelguvat vf pbby naq fgvyy. Fur bcraf gur onpx qbbe bs gur pbggntr naq naq fvgf qbja pnershyyl ba gur jbbqra fgrc. Ure obql uhegf sebz gur avtug.

      V xvyy guvatf, fur guvaxf, fheirlvat gur qel oebja cynagf va gur fznyy tneqra fur unq gevrq gb perngr.

      Fur jbaqref vs gurer vf fbzrguvat gung jnagf gb pbzr gb yvsr vafvqr bs ure, gura uvqrf sebz gur gubhtug. Abg orpnhfr fur qbrf abg jnag vg, ohg orpnhfr fur vf nsenvq. Fur qbrf abg xabj ubj gb oevat guvf guvat gb yvsr. Gur fueviryyrq cynagf orne funec grfgvzbal gb ure snvyher…

      [ encoded in ROT13 ]

      “What is that?” she asks. “It doesn’t come from The Book, does it?”
      “Well, our best team of psychic archaeologists just got it retrieved from purported old discarded bits in the Crypt.”
      “of…? You mean… apocryphal part of The Book? Are you serious?”
      “Quite possible, you see. Do you know what’s the ancient meaning behind that word ‘apocryphal’?”
      “You tell me.”
      ‘those having been hidden away’… But the intricacy of this reality makes it possible for us, in the future of The Book, to re-insert it directly into the past.”
      “So they’re no longer ‘apocryphal’…”
      “You could look them up actually, and perhaps you’ll find even the part where they’re speaking about us finding it even…”

      :fleuron:

      — Aaaaalbert! You’re not ferreting again in my old discarded files, are you?
      — Err… No, of course not Tina.

      Al quickly changed the view on the cyputer and added with a hint of malice in his voice “You don’t have anything to hide from me anyway, isn’t it?”
      “Don’t be silly Al, and you’d better prepare yourself. We’ll be late for the big Hallowe’en party at the Father Chase Memorial Garden. Becky’s supposed to make an apparition at the party, remember.”
      “Becky? You mean… The Becky?”
      “Yeah… You’re so absent-minded sometimes sweetie, good thing you got me, Sumafi as you are. Yes, that old twaddle-speaking silly exotic Becky, the one and unique!”

      #1161

      Perhaps I was a bit hasty in firing dear old Bronkel, poondered Elizabeth with a twinge of guoolt. Sure, he was mad as Almad and obsessed with deadlines, but at least he didn’t do my head in with all this psycho-booble like Godfrey PigLittleton.

      She sighed, and cast her eyes towards Lemone’s quote of the day for the descending. All morning she had been pondering the implications of his words:

      Clarify certain aspects, and take responsibility for how your energy is displayed, and do not rely on the machine to do it.

      Do not rely on the machine! Of course, herein lay the answer to all her diloomnas! She had been relying far too heavily on the machine.

      Which one though?

      She strongly suspected the compooter but she also knew he was a tricky booger that Lemone. Always talking in riddles.

      #1159

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Elizabeth read the last two lines she’d been working on to her publisher, Godfrey Pig-Littleton.

      Godfrey snorted. “Elizabeth, really! You jest, I hope.”

      “Well, I was just trying to fit each of the four themes into one chapter, they all seemed to fit together so easily” Elizabeth replied. “Why not? Tempestuous, Elusive Dreams, Unspoken Looks, and Pleasure”

      “You seemed to have fit them all into two sentences, never mind a chapter. And your characters sound like characters in a play.”

      “Well they are characters in a play, Godfrey” replied Elizabeth.

      “Ham actors, that’s what I meant. Anyway, Liz” Pig-Littleton said with a slightly mischievous grin, “What if Gayesh doesn’t want his face slapped by Becky?”

      “What do you mean?”

      “What if Becky doesn’t want to slap Gayesh?”

      “Well, she will if I write it into the play, surely!” Elizabeth started to frown. She knew that once she invented her characters that they continued to exist in a reality of their own, being free to create their own realities in whatever probable dimension they found themselves in, but she had never really stopped to think about the ramifications of her continuing to write incidents into their lives.

      “Maybe Becky has moved on from where you left her last time you wrote about her, in a completely different direction” Godfrey continued “And maybe she doesn’t want to play along with your theme word game. I mean really, is it fair to make her? Maybe she was having more fun doing whatever it was she was doing while you weren’t even thinking about what she should do. Quite rude really to interrupt her just so that you could do your word theme games. Bit of a cheek, I’d say.”

      “Oh Godfrey, that’s easily explained” Elizabeth had remembered Probabilities, which was always a handy excuse in continuity disputes. “Another probable character will do what I write for them to do, there are probably hundreds of probable characters now, all going in different directions.”

      “Is that wise? Really Elizabeth, that sounds outrageously irresponsible. Hundreds of probable characters running amok, and you have absolutely no idea what they’re all getting up to.”

      “Well they’re not my responsibility Godfrey, for heavens sake!”

      “Well if they’re not your responsibility, then who’s responsible for them?”

      “Nobody is responsible for them!”

      “Well that sounds like a recipe for chaos if you ask me” Godfrey said with a sniff. “You’ve unleashed hundreds of probable Becky’s into reality, not to mention Leo’s and Bea’s….”

      “And Pig-Littleton’s” Elizabeth interjected under her breath.

      “… and Sanso’s and Dory’s” Godfrey, who hadn’t heard Elizabeth, continued to reel off the characters names. “I mean how big do you think reality is? The rate you’re filling it up with probable characters there’ll be no space left!”

      Elizabeth started to laugh. “Oh Godfrey, you’re a case. Ahahah! They don’t take up any space at all! Anyway, Godfrey” Elizabeth turned back to her notepad. “Listen to the latest chapter and tell me what you think:

      “You tempestuous fool” Becky cried and slapped Gayesh soundly across the face. “Don’t give me those unspoken looks!”

      Gayesh sighed. “Ah, the infinite pleasure I had in mind is naught but an elusive dream.”

      Godfrey Pig-Littleton was impressed. “Elizabeth, how perfectly you incorporated the four themes into one brilliantly short chapter”

      Elizabeth closed her notebook with a satisfied smile and yawned. Let them all do whatever the bloody hell they all want to, I’m off to bed. Plenty of probable characters available in the morning, waiting in the wings.

      #2030

      In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

      ÉricÉric
      Keymaster

        Some selected bits from one tag cumulo-cloud:

        — “Matter (is) dimensional energies realized”
        — “Expect Hector (to) surface, Rafaela!”
        — “Leonora gets (to) keep saying ‘play attention!’”
        — “Close rain, friend magic, hope water seeing”
        — “Far within thinking, Arona sort days, (her) hold gives human comments great meaning”
        — “Soon blue seconds, call straight (at the) door, met surely physical; notice move (of) essence (in) fat huge dreams”
        — “Universe appear (in) book story”
        — “Malvina line although familiar answered busy funny heading”
        — “Tina looked love taking lots question indeed”
        — “Word usually working (in) short shifting pooh adventure”
        — “Seems Armelle starting soft reason; strange perhaps (in the) middle (of) rolling help (one may) spot dragons’ truth past spider times”
        — “‘Tell inside reality’: three words step (to) creating”
        — “Becky, allow yourself finding single beautiful playing light, dear”
        — “Cloud impulse shall house explain surprised black connection”
        — “Cool trust(ed) friends, portal plane”
        — “Aliens coincidence next talking”
        — “Walking arms seem flight silence; stone creature sound already entered field (of) aware(ness); scene trip apparently given reading”
        — “Beyond rolled Theresa, lately cave telling unusual morning”
        — “Wortex large, merely Glo”

        #2029

        In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

        TracyTracy
        Participant

          A moment later she fell in the pool, slipping on some loose change. The part had been a free for all, and her host had alot to answer for. lots of drinks had been given to the grey goat and mavis didn’t give a shit. she meant during the days that followed to find salome, to be able to find some meaning to the story about leonora. It was a fine day for a plane ride she thought as she waited in line feeling excited until she noticed a red working lamp advertising love, but she never noticed how much easier it was during the news. The finn connection had her smiling as she thought to try creating calm and stay present and breathe as she looked around and noticed her arms were far from normal. suddenly shhe was walking away. the goat forgotten but wrick managed to save the library which was full of fresh air known only to sri who was to sort it all out although he laughed about the wood fire of the 19 planets and she was behind herself all the way

          (oops, said Bea, I forgot to indicate which of the words was from the word cloud and which were mine. Oh well, never mind….)

          #1157
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Companions, we should start an aaadventure!” Angela the White Goose stammered to her friends.

            Freaky the Ferret couldn’t help but notice the stammering which heard like a typing typo. “Speaking of which, it’s been weeks we haven’t got any news from Arky the Aardvark, have we?”

            “Go figure,… my bets are on an aliens’ abduction” said Weirdy the Weasel rather gloomily.

            “Don’t tell that!” Angela’s look of horror on her face was leaving her paler than the white of her pristine white feather —if that would have been possible, of course.

            “You know the aliens… Zey’ve started to move a few days ago… I heard the zoo-keeper tell about it” added Jobby the baby pygmy hippo with his most funny conspiratorial look.

            “And they brought in a big lady anaconda, it came yesterday from nowhere!” Angela chimed in.

            “Perhaps she knows something…”

            #1156

            “Hey, Leo, look at this here in the newspaper ~ my book’s being made into a movie!”

            “What book’s that then, Bea? Not that dreadful ‘T’eggy Gets a Good Rogering’, surely.” Leonora replied dismissively.

            “Oh they’re not calling it that for the movie…..”

            “Bloody good job if you ask me” Leo interrupted, and then exclaimed “OH!”

            “What?”

            “Book sync!”

            “Book sync? What book sync?”

            “I forgot to tell you, Baked Bean Barb called…”

            “Who?!”

            “You remember, we met her in that bar down on the coast awhile back, remember? We got talking over a few tapas ~ found we had some mutual friends back home and all…”

            “Funny how that happens, eh ~ small world, innit? So what did she call for then?”

            “Well, it’s the funniest thing, she said when she was rummaging around on the rubbish tip….”

            “Oh now I remember, you mean Baked Bean Barb! The one that’s lived in her Ford Fiesta for 15 years, and finds food in dustbins? That one? On the run, wasn’t she?”

            “That’s the one! On the run for 30 years because of that Baked Bean Incident that was in all the papers”

            “You meet all sorts down here, eh. So what did she call for?”

            “Well” continued Leonora “It’s the strangest thing! She said she found a book on the rubbish tip, which was in English, so she says she took the book ~ she reads alot you know, Barb does, even though she’s only got one eye. Dunno how she manages it really, her glasses are always so dirty…”

            “Will you get to the point?”

            “Hang on, hang on, I’m getting there….she found this book, right, so she goes back to wherever she’s camped up, you know, with the other travellers, all them old hippies on their way to Morocco for the winter I expect….”

            “We should go with them next winter Leo, might be fun”

            “I reckon it would Bea ~ well with Jose coming back soon from that island, we’ll have to go somewhere ~ anyway, as I was saying, Barb starts reading this book, she says it’s the most peculiar book she’s ever read, never read anything like it, she says, but she can’t put it down she says ~ well, you’ll never guess what!”

            “I can’t guess, Leo, I’m waiting for you to tell me.”

            “Barb says we’re in the book!”

            “What do you mean, we’re in the book?”

            “We’re in the book! ‘Leonora and Beattie’ are in the book! Renting a finca from a ‘Jose’ and living in the mountains in Andalucia!”

            “You’re having me on!” exclaimed Bea. “I’ve gotta see this to believe it.”

            #1153

            “Don’t you think time is ripe, Ratirat?” Angela asked, turning to her friend Seth, the brown furred mouse.
            “None of us are ever equipped, for general purposes, to perceive reality in all of its forms.” Seth started in a squeaky voice.

            “That’s interesting” nodded Angela, though she would have been in trouble had anyone asked her to explain what she just heard.

            Seth continued in his unnerving high-pitched voice “The pyramid gestalts can do this, and we help the pyramid gestalts perform this feat.”

            “I second that” said Freako the black and white ferret.
            “Bloody good point!” Weirdy, the damsel weasel managed to say among the growing cacophony.

            “Don’t be zilly… I don’t zink people outzide of this zoo are ready for us” snapped Joppy the baby pygmy hippo.

            “Zwines!” grumbled Angela, innocently mocking Jobby’s strange accent.

            #1150

            Dory was often reminding herself (and anyone within hearing or blogging distance in the process) of one of her favourite catch-phrases: what you are looking for is probably right under your nose.
            It seemed of particular relevance these days, Yurick was noticing, for a variety of reasons.

            First, his glasses needed some dusting… He’d have to finish that monologue later then.

            :fleuron:

            What was he about then? Yes. The tillandsias near the window. Last week-end, they’d been to a crystal store with Yann, and mildly interested by crystals, Yurick had been wondering loudly at the heaps of strange plants in the middle of the paraphernalia of rocks, shells and starfishes. The store owner had proceeded to explain those were aerial plants, known for gathering the elements of their sustenance out of the air.
            The curiosity would probably have ended with those quick answers, had the guy not not given them on an impulse two little specimens just when they were about to go with Yann’s newly acquired amethysts.
            :raw-crystal:

            Cute. New plants to interact with. Yurick had to say he preferred plants to rocks. Yann for his part had found them funny names. “Sha” for the witchy hairy one, and “Glo” for the pineapple-looking one. Why not…

            The tilland… Well, “Sha” and “Glo” (you had to give credit to Yann for granting the reader a good respite from long unpleasant names) had been there in the bathroom for a few days, and only now had Yurick found some interest in investigating more about them.
            The capacity they had to live apparently without any strings attached was very appealing to him, and it was like a symbol of focusing on one’s own vitality, and finding the means to live out of that elusive “new energy”; of not feeding off something outside of self.

            Now, he was finding even more interesting facts; a picture that Yann had taken of a blooming plant recently was of the same genus of plants, and it reminded Yurick of plants which had fascinated him in a botanical garden, that were also from this species.
            Interestingly, he found out that the plants were named after a Finnish botanist (Elias Tillandz )… He couldn’t help but notice the similarities with another focus of his: Elias Lönnrot.

            The string of clues suddenly filling up the previously empty corridors of his mind were sparkling a renewed interest for focus hunting.

            #1147

            :multimedia:
            “Norm! NORM!!” Sue Flay shouted. “We’re filming the garden scene now, where are you?”

            But Norm was nowhere to be found. He’d stumbled upon an unexpected problem while filming T’Eggy & Phlynn with Sue Flay ~ a problem too embarrassing to mention, and one he could hardly keep a secret, given the nature of the P Movie. He’d managed to excuse himself during the last scene, feigning illness, but what if it happened again today?

            “You’re focusing on what you don’t want again, Norm.” The voice made him jump. He’d thought he was alone in the treehouse, he thought no-one would find him hiding there in the leafy depths of the spinney, high up in the foliage. He looked around, wondering where the voice was coming from.

            “You haven’t generated me physical, Norm, but you can if you wish” the voice said.

            “How do I do that?” asked Norm.

            “Allow, that’s all” the voice replied.

            “Oh what rubbish!” Norm said in an agitated whisper. “What stupid advice!”

            “Ha ha ha! As you wish, my friend” replied the voice, sounding rather amused.

            “If you hadn’t just given me such stupid advice I might have felt more inclined to ask you for some advice about this awful problem” Norm whispered crossly.

            “Are you asking me for advice or not?”

            “Well if you’ve got anything USEFUL to say, then say it!”

            “If you go down to the garden today,
            You’re sure to have a surprise.
            There’s a herb growing there and you don’t have to pay,
            It’s growing in front of your eyes.
            The magic you see is everywhere
            It never runs out of stock
            Go down to the garden, if you dare….”

            “I asked you for advice, not a daft bloody poem!” Norm hissed.

            “You wish to be hard as a rock?”

            YES!” spat Norm in frustration, blushing furiously. What’s the friggen garden got to do with it?”

            “There’s a herb in the garden called Horny Goat

            “Oh PulEASE…..” Norm rolled his eyes.

            “Horny Goat Weed will do the trick.
            And straighten up your droopy…”

            ENOUGH! Good Grief, I get the message. What am I supposed to DO with it, roll in it? Eat it? Smoke it?”

            “It matters not, my friend. That’s the magic of it all. You can choose any method”

            “Are you sure about this?” asked Norm, who was willing to try anything at this point. “How do I know I can trust you?”

            “Ha ha ha! Trust youSELF, Norm!”

            “Who are you anyway?” Norm asked suspiciously.

            But the voice chuckled and faded, leaving Norm in a quandary in the treehouse.

            “Oh bugger it, I may as well give it a go. I can’t stay here forever, and anyway, I’ve run out of cigarettes.”

            Norm climbed down the tree and marched over to the the film crew.

            “Oh THERE you are Norm!” Sue came rushing up to him. “What perfect timing, we’re breaking for lunch.” She gave Norm a spontaneous hug. She really was rather nice, Norm thought, smiling at her.

            “Would you like some soup? We put lots of fresh herbs in it from the garden.”

            #1146

            “Oh My God” exclaimed Bea. “I had a dream about the DOOR!”

            “Oh, well done! The question is, did you remember it?” asked Leonora.

            “As a matter of fact, Leo, I did!” replied Bea with a happy smile. “As a matter of fact, although I’m not too sure how factual matter really is, but anyway, I did remember the dream, and I wrote it all down.”

            “Gosh, up early this morning, weren’t you?” asked Leo, who was sipping coffee at the kitchen table and watching the sun come up over the mountains through the open door.

            “Oh I didn’t write it down this morning, silly! I wrote it all down last week.”

            Leo placed her cup on the table and rubbed her eyes, frowning. “Wait a minute, let me get this straight…..”

            Bea laughed ~ she was in rather a jolly mood, despite the early hour. “I had the dream last week, Leo, but I only just realized this morning that the dream was about THE DOOR

            “So what did you learn about the door, then?”

            Bea frowned. “Well I’m not really sure. But it seemed so significant because it was that scary door, you know, the dreams I’ve been having for years about that door in that bedroom that’s too scary to get near, never mind go through….would you like to read it? Maybe you can interpret it for me.”

            “If I must” sighed Leonora “You better pour me another cup of coffee then and pass me those cigarettes.”

            Leonora read from Bea’s Dream Journal:

            I was sorting winter clothes out on an upstairs landing of a cottagey gabled house,
            and decided to use the upstairs bedroom instead of the downstairs one.
            The bedroom was a recurring dream one, gabled attic with dormer windows kind of room.
            Then I saw the door and remembered this was the door I was always too terrified
            in dreams to open; it was so scary that I always wanted to use this bedroom
            but never could because of that terrifying door and whatever lay beyond it.

            “Didn’t you do a waking dream and go through that door?” Leonora asked. “Oh, yes here is is…”

            Remembering that I had done a waking dream and gone beyond the door once,
            I marched up to the door, flung it open and strode through.
            Suddenly an almost overpowering fear and dread stopped me in my tracks
            but I carried on anyway.

            “Oh, bloody well done, Bea! Good for you, girl!” Leonora could be a bit waspish at times, but she was a kind old soul underneath.

             It was a bit like a old slightly shabby but once grand hotel foyer, high ceilings
            (not the same as when I went through in the waking dream, which was then rows
            of closed doors on either side).  The foyer opened out on the left into a large old
            fashioned restaurant dining room, with one person over on the far side sitting at
            a table.  I carried on straight ahead through opaque etched glass double doors
            onto an upstairs outdoor terrace.  There was a city scene below.  On the left
            was a shallow ornately shaped ornamental pool.

            “Reminds me a bit of our trip to Barcelona, this does, eh” Leo commented.

            “Yeah, I’m sure that had something to do with the gargoyle imagery” replied Bea.

            A woman squeezed past me holding a small thick book and I knew she was
            going to jump off the terrace which was several storeys up.  She collapsed into
            the pool, writhing backwards, baring a flat white breast and dropping the book.

            “Flat breast, hahah Bea, that weren’t you then, obviously, was it!”

            Bea chuckled. “Not bloody likely! I reckon that bit slipped in the dream because I can’t find a comfortable bra lately”

            “You and me both” replied Leo. She continued reading from the journal.

            I picked up the book, and somehow ended up with two books, which seemed like guide books. I couldn’t hold onto the two books with the creature in my hand, which was weird, like a very heavy small furry grey reptile, or gargoyle.

            “Maybe it was a baby dragon?”

            “Don’t say that!” retorted Bea, who had a horror of dragons. “The thought did cross my mind too, though” she admitted.

            I was holding it with one hand round its middle and the fat grey belly of it
            was bulging out under my fingers.  It was unbelievably heavy for such a small creature
            and I didn't want to hold it, so I passed it to a boy. (Twice I was holding the creature,
            and twice I passed it to the boy, but I can't recall the other time)
            Back inside the building, I followed the boy down a big wide staircase that
            curved round to the right at a landing below.  I started to fall down the stairs and
            knew it was because of the book that I was holding that the woman had been holding
            when she collapsed into the pool, so I threw the book down the stairs to save myself,
            and felt the tumbling down from the books perspective, although I stayed in
            the same place, clutching the banister.

            “Well I am amazed that you remembered so much, Bea! Going through the doors and finding the books reminds me of Jane’s Library you know”. Leo was starting to go into an altered state.

            “Are you going into an altered state, Leo?” asked Bea. “Are you channeling Juani Ramirez again?”

            “The creature, the gargoyle, was representing ‘a different species of awareness, of consciousness’” continued Leonora, as Bea hastily started taking notes. Leo wouldn’t remember what she’d said while she was channeling Juani, so it was essential that Bea record what was said.

            “The weight was a marker to help you recall the creature, as well as being symbolic of denseness”

            Bea couldn’t help making a snirking noise. Dense eh, she said under her breath.

            “The door” continued Leonora “Is a signpost, a marker.”

            Just then the phone rang, snapping Leonora out of the trance. Bea picked up the telephone, but there was nobody there.

            “Pffft” said Bea.

            “More coffee?”

            #1145

            “Listen to this, Bea” Leonora said.

            Bea looked up from her book “What’s that then Leo? I’m just getting to the juicy part where T’eggy gets….”

            “Listen to this” Leo interrupted, and read from the book she was reading, “As a writer I feel free to do anything I please, investigating anything, saying anything…..as a writer I feel free to be psychic as a bird, do what I please and use my abilities psychically quite freely. When I think of me as a psychic I get hung up because I seem to be in the company of so many nuts. Writers may be as nuts as anyone else but it’s a nuttiness that doesn’t bug me ~ there’s no dogma attached…..”

            “What on earth are you reading, Leo?”

            “The memoirs of Jane Roberts” replied Leonora. “What a coincidence this is! I was just starting to think about writing some fiction, you know? Because when you write fiction nobody really questions what you write, it’s easier, somehow.”

            “Well if it’s fiction you’re after, I can recommend T’Eggy Gets A Good Rogering, it’s brilliant.” replied Bea helpfully.

            “Bloody hell, Bea!” said Leonora in exasperation. “I want to write tasteful enlightening fiction, wonderful stories with a moral and a point and a lesson ~ I don’t want to read the trash you read!”

            “Suit yourself, you judgmental cow” replied Bea huffily. “And anyway, you haven’t even read it, so how would you know?”

            #1144
            TracyTracy
            Participant

              Chuckling to herself about Sam’s latest entry (which was another splendid synchronicity with the daily random quote: “Just as Becky was retorting crossly to Al to please knock before remote viewing her…”) Becky Tooh went outside into the sunshine to hang out the laundry. Blinking in the strong sunlight she reached up to peg a towel on the line and noticed two huge eagles circling above her. I swear they are looking right at me, she said. She watched them circling until her eyes could stand the glare of the sun no longer, then turned back to the laundry basket.

              Oh will you look at that! she said crossly. Bird pooh all over the washing!

              #1137

              “And now there’s that cycle of energy that goes into the other realms and comes full circle, cascading down like watermelons crashing down from a fountain back into this reality, and then it cycles back up into the other dimensions, and then back down, creating an endless loop – an endless loop of watermelons , consciousness and expansion, New Energy, creativity, letting go of the obstacles and the watermelons , truly being in life.”

              Becky was reading aloud from House of The Watermelon, by Toby St.Germaine .

              “The next step, as we enter this House of The Watermelon, the next step is to take a drink of watermelon juice. There’s plenty of watermelons. You don’t even need a glass up here. Just drink of the watermelons….”

              “Becky, why is that book called The House of The Watermelon?” Dory asked. “I haven’t heard a single mention of watermelons all the way through it.”

              #1136
              TracyTracy
              Participant

                The interior of the Fly-boat was a bit like a Tardis, in that it was very much bigger on the inside than it appeared from the outside, and quite a different shape, too. While the exterior of the fly-boat resembled a cross between a duck and a bee, the interior was circular. There was a high point in the centre of the ceiling, and richly embroidered tapestries draping down to the floor in sumptuous folds, looking for all the world like a yurt.

                Yukailli Airlines has a decidedly exotic and oriental air, Dory thought as she perused the in flight magazine, which was written in a charming but indecipherable script resembling the Voynich Papers.

                “This is your captain speaking” a disembodied voice boomed. “Welcome aboard! My name is Ignoratio Elenchi, and I trust that you will have a most enjoyable flight with Yukailli AirBoats. There will be no obligation to fasten your seatbelts and you may smoke all through the flight. Our cabin crew will be preparing Vedic Stew over an open fire in the central area of the craft at 11:11. For your in-flight entertainment, up on the open air flight deck there will be a continuous light show by Aurora Borealis. If you want us to stop the flyboat at any point to take snapshots” continued Ignoratio, “Please don’t hesitate to ask.”

                #1135

                — “Dory?”
                — “What, hon’?” a distracted Dory answered to young Becky
                — “You’d better remove the magnets from the iron, or you’ll ruin another one…”
                — “What are you talking about?!” Dory was perplexed, trying to find her way through the airport to Gate 57-¾, but only to find nothing but benches in between Gate 57 and 58.
                — “Oh, never mind… It’s only a dream and you probably won’t remember it anyway.”

                “There!” the suspicious bag lady of the Heathrow terminal had reappeared briefly just for Dory to spot her entering the restrooms.
                Becky was already rolling the heavy bumper-stickers patched suitcase to follow her without question.

                — “But why are you taking the suitcase to go to the bathroom, Beck’?”
                — “What are you talking about Dory!” Becky was sometimes losing patience. “Can’t you see it’s the entrance for Gate 57-¾?!”
                — “Uh?” A moment of clueless mystery on Dory’s face. “Oh…” Another mini-black hole on her face.

                “Oh. Okay then. Let’s go…”

                If there was something that her exotic life had taught Dory, it was to never question the moment. If the circumstances are here, if the impulse is there, then go for it. Explanations will follow. And in case they don’t, make them up as you roll and rock!

                Becky meanwhile was rather surprised at how people, even her own step-mother, as tuned in ghostly stuff as she was, most of the time failed to see the things for what they really are. And if these big painted letters on the door “GATE 57 ¾” weren’t obvious enough, and people preferred to interpret them as restrooms, then… what else could be done? She sighed.
                Later on, she would learn that it was a common, well documented trait in human consciousness; that people were sometimes psychologically (but not physically) blind to stuff outside of their current focus of attention, or simply blind to things too far off their beliefs; in other terms, it was a matter of energy reconfiguration. As long as it worked…

                “Oh look at that… Yukailli Airlines counter is here! What bloody stupid idea to put a closet door at the entrance…”

                After having made the departure arrangements at the counter, Dory came back to Becky who was looking outside at the planes.

                — “Ain’t them beautiful?”
                — “Yeah, and I suppose you’re seeing planes, aren’t you?”
                — “Err, yes of course, what else, silly… Though now you ask me, they seem a bit weird… foggy or something”.

                In fact, what Becky was seeing wasn’t conventional planes. It was more like “fly-boats”. Some sorts of hybrid ships made to fly with huge wings transparent and shiny like those of flies.

                — “I hope they have crunchy coleslaw for meal, I’m starving” a contented and tired Dory said, when she collapsed into the comfortable seats.

                #1133
                ÉricÉric
                Keymaster

                  After her publisher sent her back the manuscript of her last noovel with a few annotations, Elizabeth Tattler started to question whether she was blinking into the Eirth dimension.

                  “Look at that!” she said, watching at all the circled sentences… “good greif, my freinds…” then a few paragraphs later “the cheif of the oodlings”… “her neice…” Something was wroong with her.

                  Was she ODding or what?

                  Bah, if her publisher wasn’t happy, there still remained Barash who was never afraid to publish a few “od-oddities” (other-dimensional oddities)…

                  “Free rein on the reindoors!” She shouted in her office.

                  #1132
                  TracyTracy
                  Participant

                    Dory finished the puzzle, yawned and glanced at her watch. There was no sign of the flight to Long Pong leaving any time soon, so she made her flightbag into a pillow and settled herself along the plastic seating for a nap.

                    She dreamed first of her grandparents in their old house in Slurbridge. The house was the same, but her grandparents, Florence and Samuel, were much younger than she had ever known them during her lifetime. They were preparing for guests, and Florence was rearranging the bedding in the upstairs bedrooms. Apparently one more guest was expected than previously arranged, and she had squeezed in a single camp bed next to a double bed. Dory had an idea the camp bed was for Dan’s niece, Aurelia. Funny that, as Florence and Samuel had never known Aurelia ~ or Dan for that matter.

                    The dream landscape changed then to an island. The “Others” were coming and she and her friends had to hide. “Let’s hide in the pyramid” one of them had said, but Dory replied “No, we must hide somewhere less obvious, until we know what the “Others” are like.” They weren’t afraid, but they were taking precautions. Someone had been looking after the dogs and cats, but when Dory went to check on them, they had been ‘kept safe’ in a freezer. As Dory opened the door, a half frozen black cat emerged and ran off. “I reckon she’s better off taking her chances out there than in the freezer!” said Dory. At the bottom of the freezer were some frozen parts of Tom, Captain Bone. There was no sign of the others, but strangely, Dory wasn’t worried.

                    Next to the freezer was a cupboard, and Dory grabbed a handful of magnetic fridge letters, thinking that they would come in handy as clues while they were hiding from the “Others”.

                    “Yukailli Airlines direct flight leaving for Tikfijikoo Island at Gate 57 and three quarters” the bag lady prodded Dory, amidst a shower of electric blue sparks. “Wake up!”

                    #1125

                    “Pffftt” said Bea. “Lost the bloody connection again.” She turned on the TV instead. She had been researching on the internet the three names that she had woken up mumbling ~ Gabor, Sindy and Swinde ~ and had just found something promising about interdimensional federations when the line went dead. Actually, the three names and the woman behind the desk in her dream had reminded her a bit of Oversoul 7.

                    “Honestly, this bloody country! It’s like the dark ages” she muttered under her breath.

                    Bea flicked through the news channels: sports on one, that boring election on another, more hurricanes on another channel……Bea paused her surfing when she saw the watermelon on a documentary channel. There was a pile of watermelons, and the narrator was explaining how the chimpanzees were sharing the watermelons with each other.

                    Well what a coincidence! Bea thought, that’s a watermelon AND an ape sync. It must be a clue. HHmmm, sharing the watermelons…..

                    And just think, if the line hadn’t gone dead at that very moment, that precise moment, I wouldn’t have turned on the TV, and I wouldn’t have seen the apes and the watermelons.

                    Bea was momentarily speechless as she contemplated the perfect timing of everything. She was mesmerized and awestruck at the sheer vast intricacy of it all. Whoever is planning and organizing this incredible reality play I find myself in is nothing short of a genius, she thought, and went to wake up Leonora so that she could share the marvellous moment of revelation with her.

                    “Oh for god’s sake Bea, you woke me bloody up to tell me that? Bugger off you rude tart” Leo replied crossly when Bea woke her and told her all about the astonishing coincidence. “Things like that are happening all the bloody time, or haven’t you noticed? That’s just Everyday Magic, for Flove’s sake, now piss off and let me get some sleep”

                    But Bea had a feeling that this was much more than just Everyday Magic. This felt like something else, something incomprehensibly huge and wonderful. Not that Everyday Magic isn’t incomprehensibly huge and wonderful too, she reminded herself.

                    Maybe is WAS “just” Everyday Magic after all….

                    #1123

                    Upon hearing Malvina’s thoughts, Arona smiled to herself.

                    If only she knew the truth!

                    ( If I put big spaces in-between, it will make it look as though I have written more, decided Tina rather cleverly, still feeling a bit creatively uninspired.)

                    Tempted though she was, Arona knew she must not give anything away. It was easier to stay in character if she did not allow herself to remember too often, at least until this cave mission was complete. Occasionally she allowed herself the luxury of remembering, yet to do so was to feel a yearning for home.

                    It was a pity about the outfit of course, the mouldy cloak…

                    ( hmmm was it mouldy though or just a bit on the musty side? )

                    … which the Oddlings had decided she would wear for much of this assignment was not her favourite look. Even though she had managed eventually to lose it in the darkness of the cave, her current clothes were now almost in tatters. Arona sighed wistfully, remembering the beautiful silks, chiffons and organzas some of her previous assignments.

                    Moments later she brightened again thinking of Vincentius and her other friends.

                    There were certainly compensations, she decided philosophically.

                    Arona was a little concerned about the meddling of Malvina and the others, although of course she realised they were doing it with the best of intentions to fulfill their own purposes. Arona understood all this, and sometimes regretted she could not tell them who she really was. The powerful thought shields she had been trained in by the Oddlings meant that her disguise had not so far been penetrated.

                    Yet she hated to deceive.

                    Not to worry. For now she must just focus on the completion of her own mission here.

                    She called to Buckberry softly in her thoughts and felt a little thrill of excitement when she heard his response. She knew she would have need of the little dragon for the task which lay ahead.

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