Daily Random Quote

  • “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes. With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over ... · ID #4742 (continued)
    (next in 15h 31min…)

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  • #4510
    F LoveF Love
    Participant

      Maeve sighed loudly—something she had been doing an awful lot of lately—and checked the time on her phone. If she left now and really hurried it would only take 5 minutes to get to the cafe. On the other hand if she took her time … well, with any luck the others would have already moved on.

      Not that she didn’t like Lucinda, on the contrary she enjoyed her neighbour’s gregarious nature and propensity to talk amusing rubbish — usually in public and at the top of her voice which would cause Maeve to look around nervously and lower her own voice in order to compensate.

      Maeve had made peace with her own introversion years ago. In order to survive with a semblance of normality, she had cultivated an outward calm which belied the activity going on in her head. The downside of this was she suspected she came across to others as muted and dull as the beige walls of her apartment. The upside was it allowed her to hide in plain sight; and she considered this to be a very handy trait. In truth, Maeve was one who liked many and few; she would happily talk to people, if she knew what on earth to say to them.

      ‘Anyway,’ Maeve reasoned, ‘I have to finish the doll.’

      She looked with satisfaction at her latest creation; a young boy wearing a vintage style buzzy bee costume. She had painstakingly sewn, stuffed and painted the cloth doll and then sanded the layers of paint till he looked old and well worn. ‘He looks like he has been well loved by some child,’ she mused. There was just one more step remaining before applying a protective coat of varnish and seating him on the shelf next to the others.

      She went to the kitchen drawer. In the 3rd drawer down there was a cardboard box of old keys. Most of the keys didn’t fit anything in her apartment; in fact she had no idea where they came from. Except one. She picked out a small gold key and went to the writing desk in the lounge, a heavy dour piece of furniture with a drop-front desk and various small drawers and cubby holes inside. Maeve unlocked one of these drawers with the key and pulled out a small parcel.

      ‘Only 3 parcels to go,’ she thought with relief.

      A small section of the stitching was unfinished on the back of Bee Boy, just enough to squeeze the package inside and then rearrange the stuffing around it. With neat stitches Maeve sewed up the seam.

      She checked the time. It had taken twenty six minutes.

      “Want to go for a walk to see Aunty Lulu and her nice new friends? See what she is going on about decorating?” she asked Fabio, her pekingese.

      #4502
      Jib
      Participant

        Shawn-Paul exited Finn’s Bakery on the crowded Cobble street with his precious cargo of granola cookies. They were wrapped in a cute purple box pommeled with pink hearts. He put on a disdainful attitude, adjusting his scarf for better effect, while already salivating in anticipation of the granola melting in his hot chocolate at home. He was sure that would revive his fleeting inspiration for his novel.
        It was hard not to swallow as saliva accumulated in his mouth, but he had had years of practices since he was eight. His aunt Begonia had just given him a snicker bar that he had swallowed in one gulp, spreading some chocolate on his face in the process. She had accused him of being a dirty little piglet and he was so upset of being compared to the animal, that he had vowed to never show his love for food again. Instead he developed a public dislike of food and a slender frame quite fitting his bohemian lifestyle, while always having some cookies in store.

        Shawn-Paul turned right on Quagmire street. It was bordered with Plane trees that kept it cool and bearable in summer. He was thinking about the suggestion of his writing coach to spend some time with his artist self, thinking that he had not done it for quite some time, but immediately felt guilty about not writing and firmed his resolution to go back home and write. He walked past a group of two elder woman and a man arguing in front of Liz’s Antique. One of the woman had a caved in mouth and used her hands profusely to make her point to the man. She was wearing pink slippers with pompon.

        Italian tourists, Shawn-Paul thought rolling his eyes.

        He swallowed and almost choked on his saliva when he glimpsed an improbable reflection on the Antique’s window. A woman, smiling and waving at him from a branch of a plane tree behind him, balancing her legs. He particularly noticed her feet and the red sandals, the rest of the body was a blur.

        As Shawn-Paul turned, the toothless Italian tourist whirled her arms about like an inflated tubewoman, frightening a nearby sparrow. The bird took off and followed a curve around Shawn-Paul. Caught together in a twirl worthy of the best dervishes, the man and the bird connected in one of those perfect moment that Shawn-Paul would long but fail to transcribe into words afterwards.

        There was no woman in the tree. A male dog stopped to mark his territory. A bit disappointed and confused, Shawn-Paul felt the need to talk.

        “Did you see her?” he asked the Italian tourists. They stopped arguing and looked at him suspiciously for a moment. “She was right there with her red sandals,” he said showing the branch where he was sure she had sat. “I saw her in the window,” he felt compelled to add, not sure if they understood him.

        The other tourist woman, who had all her teeth, rolled her eyes and pointed behind him.

        “There’s a woman in red right over there!” she said with a chanting accent.

        Shawn-Paul turned and just had the time to glimpse a woman dressed all in red, skirt, vest, hat and sandals before she disappeared at the corner of Fortune street.

        Moved by a sudden impulse and forgetting all about his writing, he thanked the tourist and ran after the red woman.

        #4470

        Despite using his human form frequently, Tak was at heart still the same little gibbon his friend had found in the bamboo forest.

        A lot of his inner turmoil had been transformed, like a new skin on a wound, especially after the ceremony. He no longer felt the weight of the other lives they had lived, nor the stir of revenge that was festering inside. His heart was like a forest after a fire, growing anew, fresh below the cover of dead ashes.

        During the past months, he had been mostly busy with himself. He couldn’t avoid the classes that Rukshan would teach him in the morning, but it still left a good deal of free time. He would wander in the nearby woods, listening to the sounds, exploring where it felt safe enough, and at times jumping from branch to branch in his gibbon form.
        He could feel Fox was a bit envious at times —struggling too much to retain his human form. It would become more difficult with the age, to stay longer in a form especially if you started to master it later in age. So he had to enjoy and relish the fact he was still young.

        In the forest, he had felt disturbance, but nothing like the ghosts that had chased them a long time back. There was work done at a distance, and it displaced creatures, the forest was angry. His companions too, and Fox was talking about doing sabotage work. Rukshan had asked him to take no part in it, but there was no telling how long he could resist the call.

        When he entered that night back in the cabin, there was a strange smell, something subtle and precious, like smokey and peppered with ambergris and with a feel of dew on a fresh lettuce. It came from a small package on the drawer in the burka lady’s quarter.
        It smelt too good. Surreptitiously he entered the room and opened the little thing, there was a creamy substance in it. Surely some nice spread for freshly baked bread.
        He couldn’t resist, the smell was tantalising. He dipped one finger, licked it, and… wow… in three quick gulps, licked the whole thing clear.

        Tak was at heart still the same mischievous little gibbon his mother loved so much.

        #4469

        A few weeks back now, a visitor had come to the forest. A visitor dressed in the clothes of a tramp.

        “I’ve come to speak with Glynnis,” he said, when Margoritt answered the door of the cottage.

        “And who might I say is calling?” asked Margoritt. She looked intently into the eyes of the tramp and a look of shock crossed her countenance. “Ah, I see now who you are.”

        The tramp nodded.

        “I mean no harm to you, Old Lady and I mean no harm to Glynis. Tell her to come to the clearing under the Silver Birch. Tell her to make haste.”

        And with that he hobbled away.

        It was no more than a few minutes later, Glynnis came to the clearing. She strode up to the tramp and stood defiant in front of him.

        “What is it you want now!?” she demanded. “And why have you come disguised as a homeless wanderer dressed in rags, you coward! Is this more of your trickery! Can you not leave me in peace with my fate! Have you not done enough harm to me already! And all because I could not love you in return! she scoffed at him, her voice raised in fury and unable to halt the angry tirade though she knew caution would be the more prudent path to take.

        The tramp stood silent in the face of her anger.

        “I have come to say I am sorry and to undo the harm I did to you,” he said at last. “I was wondering would you like me to remove the scales from your face?”

        Glynnis could not reply. She stared at him in shock, trying to comprehend what his words meant.

        “My father left this dimension a short while ago,” he continued. “When he left, something changed in me. A dark mass had obscured my vision so I could feel only hatred towards you. When my father departed, so did the hatred. I realise now he cursed me … since then I have seen clearly the wrong I did to you and hastened to make amends. I came dressed as a tramp … well to be honest I thought it was quite a fun costume and I did not want to cause undue fear in those I met on my path.”

        He reached into his tattered cape and pulled out a small package. “Apply this lotion every night for a week. It will dissolve the scales and as well will heal the scars within as you sleep.”

        #4457

        It was no shadow day. The sun was right above head, shining its blinding light right through you. Everybody at the cottage was feeling the heat and trying as much as they could to cool themselves down.
        Only Hasamelis didn’t seem to mind. Being a God even a fallen One had its perks. Eleri was glaring at him annoyed while she was profusely sweating. There was always a tense flirtatious hatred, or rather a murderous love between those two, and it kept pulling them together, in a paradoxical way.
        Everyone were glad for the herb cooler that Glynis would decant for them.

        Rukshan was looking longingly at the horizon, maybe (he wouldn’t admit) thinking about the Queen, or for some better place to be…
        But since their fire ceremonial, he could feel releasing the Shards through the burning of the book had awoken something, and danger from an unknown place seemed to be lurking beyond the mountains.

        The Doors to the God Realm had opened again, and he wasn’t all sure it was a good thing.

        #4451
        F LoveF Love
        Participant

          “Great,” said Finnley with her usual understated enthusiasm (lovely enticed look on her face notwithstanding). She looked sternly at Godfrey and pointed accusingly in the direction of his still open mouth, an endearing habit he had when pondering.

          “And still on the subject of green, Godfrey has been into my delicious pesto again! Don’t try and deny it!” she admonished him sternly as he quickly clamped his mouth shut. “We all saw the evidence affixed to your teeth.”

          #4449
          ÉricÉric
          Keymaster

            “Speaking of green stuff, what’s with Roberto and his new green mohican?” whispered Godfrey conspiratorially to Liz. He kinds of look just like a Mary river turtle now… Only with less moss around the nose…”
            “I think it’s one of Finnley’s idea of a practical joke… She may have suggested that it would look cute on him.”
            Godfrey paused, considering the thought. “Well, that for sure would make it nicely into your new book, Liz’,” he said pointedly.

            “A new book?” Finnley couldn’t help but overhear, and had faked the loveliest enticed look on her face.

            Liz’, who wasn’t one to be fazed by the rumbustious maid quickly snapped back “Yes, it’ll start in the most unexpected manner you see. With an ending.”

            #4430
            F LoveF Love
            Participant

              One spring day in 1822, so the story goes, Emerald Huntingford was walking the family dog on the extensive family estate, when the dog ran into a densely wooded area in hot pursuit of a rabbit. This was not uncommon, however on this occasion Emerald whistled and called but the dog did not return to her. She ran back to the house and shouted for her brother, Nigel, to help her find the it.

              After several hours of frantic searching, for it was a much loved family pet, and just as they were beginning to despair, they heard whimpering coming from a hole in the ground. They cleared away the brush covering the entrance to the hole and saw it went some way into the ground and it was here the unfortunate dog had fallen. It was too deep for them to enter unaided, so while Emerald sat with the dog and called reassuringly down to it, Nigel ran for assistance. With the help of ropes and several strong farm workers, Nigel descended into the space. To his amazement, he found himself in a clay filled dome with shallow entrances going off to other underground galleries. At that time, with his focus on the injured dog, he had no inkling of the extent of it. It was later on, after they had time to explore, that the Huntingfords started to comprehend the amazing world which existed under their land.

              Word spread, and they were offered a substantial amount of money by a mining company to mine the land. Locals, and others from further afield, wanted to visit the doline and many would try and do so, with or without seeking permission from the Huntingfords first. Some argued that if you don’t own the sky above your land, why should you have claim to the ground beneath?

              The Huntingfords were wealthy and had no need or desire to sell the rights to their land. Eventually, their patience worn thin by the aggressive mining company and invasive tourists, they decided to defend their claim to the doline in court; a claim which they won. From that time on, as one generation of the family passed the secrets of the doline to another, guards were employed to keep watch over the entrance, that none may enter the underground world without the approval of the family.

              And it seems none had, until now.

              #4425

              In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

              TracyTracy
              Participant

                far gardener pulled peanut
                distance snow ages
                human spent immediately
                shoulder woke
                known loudly hanging
                leaving indeed believe
                love ones cleaning

                #4403
                F LoveF Love
                Participant

                  random plot generator

                  A BOOK SHOP – IT IS THE AFTERNOON AFTER ALBIE HIT HIS MOTHER WITH A FEATHER.

                  Newly unemployed ALBIE is arguing with his friend JENNY RAMSBOTTOM. ALBIE tries to hug JENNY but she shakes him off angrily.

                  ALBIE
                  Please Jenny, don’t leave me.

                  JENNY
                  I’m sorry Albie, but I’m looking for somebody a bit more brave. Somebody who faces his fears head on, instead of running away. You hit your mother with a feather! You could have just talked to her!

                  ALBIE
                  I am such a person!

                  JENNY
                  I’m sorry, Albie. I just don’t feel excited by this relationship anymore.

                  JENNY leaves and ALBIE sits down, looking defeated.

                  Moments later, gentle sweet shop owner MR MATT HUMBLE barges in looking flustered.

                  ALBIE
                  Goodness, Matt! Is everything okay?

                  MATT
                  I’m afraid not.

                  ALBIE
                  What is it? Don’t keep me in suspense…

                  MATT
                  It’s … a hooligan … I saw an evil hooligan frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                  ALBIE
                  Defenseless elderly ladies?

                  MATT
                  Yes, defenseless elderly ladies!

                  ALBIE
                  Bloomin’ heck, Matt! We’ve got to do something.

                  MATT
                  I agree, but I wouldn’t know where to start.

                  ALBIE
                  You can start by telling me where this happened.

                  MATT
                  I was…
                  MATT fans himself and begins to wheeze.

                  ALBIE
                  Focus Matt, focus! Where did it happen?

                  MATT
                  The Library! That’s right – the Library!

                  ALBIE springs up and begins to run.

                  EXT. A ROADCONTINUOUS

                  ALBIE rushes along the street, followed by MATT. They take a short cut through some back gardens, jumping fences along the way.

                  INT. A LIBRARYSHORTLY AFTER

                  ROGER BLUNDER a forgetful hooligan terrorises two elderly ladies.

                  ALBIE, closely followed by MATT, rushes towards ROGER, but suddenly stops in his tracks.

                  MATT
                  What is is? What’s the matter?

                  ALBIE
                  That’s not just any old hooligan, that’s Roger Blunder!

                  MATT
                  Who’s Roger Blunder?

                  ALBIE
                  Who’s Roger Blunder? Who’s Roger Blunder? Only the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                  MATT
                  Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                  ALBIE
                  You can say that again.

                  MATT
                  Blinkin’ knickers, Albie! We’re going to need some help if we’re going to stop the most forgetful hooligan in the universe!

                  ALBIE
                  I’m going to need candlesticks, lots of candlesticks.

                  Roger turns and sees Albie and Matt. He grins an evil grin.

                  ROGER
                  Albie Jones, we meet again!

                  MATT
                  You’ve met?

                  ALBIE
                  Yes. It was a long, long time ago…

                  EXT. A PARKBACK IN TIME

                  A young ALBIE is sitting in a park listening to some trance music, when suddenly a dark shadow casts over him.

                  He looks up and sees ROGER. He takes off his headphones.

                  ROGER
                  Would you like some wine gums?

                  ALBIE’s eyes light up, but then he studies ROGER more closely, and looks uneasy.

                  ALBIE
                  I don’t know, you look kind of forgetful.

                  ROGER
                  Me? No. I’m not forgetful. I’m the least forgetful hooligan in the world.

                  ALBIE
                  Wait, you’re a hooligan?

                  ALBIE runs away, screaming.

                  INT. A LIBRARYPRESENT DAY

                  ROGER
                  You were a coward then, and you are a coward now.

                  MATT
                  (To ALBIE) You ran away?
                  ALBIE
                  (To MATT) I was a young child. What was I supposed to do?
                  ALBIE turns to ROGER.

                  ALBIE
                  I may have run away from you then, but I won’t run away this time!
                  ALBIE runs away.

                  He turns back and shouts.

                  ALBIE
                  I mean, I am running away, but I’ll be back – with candlesticks.

                  ROGER
                  I’m not scared of you.

                  ALBIE
                  You should be.

                  INT. A SWEET SHOPLATER THAT DAY

                  ALBIE and MATT walk around searching for something.

                  ALBIE
                  I feel sure I left my candlesticks somewhere around here.

                  MATT
                  Are you sure? It does seem like an odd place to keep deadly candlesticks.

                  ALBIE
                  You know nothing Matt Humble.

                  MATT
                  We’ve been searching for ages. I really don’t think they’re here.

                  Suddenly, ROGER appears, holding a pair of candlesticks.

                  ROGER
                  Looking for something?

                  MATT
                  Crikey, Albie, he’s got your candlesticks.

                  ALBIE
                  Tell me something I don’t already know!

                  MATT
                  The earth’s circumference at the equator is about 40,075 km.

                  ALBIE
                  I know that already!

                  MATT
                  I’m afraid of dust.

                  ROGER
                  (appalled) Dude!

                  While ROGER is looking at MATT with disgust, ALBIE lunges forward and grabs his deadly candlesticks. He wields them, triumphantly.

                  ALBIE
                  Prepare to die, you forgetful aubergine!

                  ROGER
                  No please! All I did was frighten a bunch of elderly ladies!

                  JENNY enters, unseen by any of the others.

                  ALBIE
                  I cannot tolerate that kind of behaviour! Those elderly ladies were defenceless! Well now they have a defender – and that’s me! Albie Jones defender of innocent elderly ladies.

                  ROGER
                  Don’t hurt me! Please!

                  ALBIE
                  Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t use these candlesticks on you right away!

                  ROGER
                  Because Albie, I am your father.

                  ALBIE looks stunned for a few moments, but then collects himself.

                  ALBIE
                  No you’re not!

                  ROGER
                  Ah well, it had to be worth a try.

                  ROGER tries to grab the candlesticks but ALBIE dodges out of the way.

                  ALBIE
                  Who’s the daddy now? Huh? Huh?

                  Unexpectedly, ROGER slumps to the ground.

                  MATT
                  Did he just faint?

                  ALBIE
                  I think so. Well that’s disappointing. I was rather hoping for a more dramatic conclusion, involving my deadly candlesticks.

                  ALBIE crouches over ROGER’s body.

                  MATT
                  Be careful, Albie. It could be a trick.

                  ALBIE
                  No, it’s not a trick. It appears that… It would seem… Roger Blunder is dead!

                  ALBIE
                  What?

                  ALBIE
                  Yes, it appears that I scared him to death.

                  MATT claps his hands.

                  MATT
                  So your candlesticks did save the day, after all.

                  JENNY steps forward.

                  JENNY
                  Is it true? Did you kill the forgetful hooligan?

                  ALBIE
                  Jenny how long have you been…?

                  JENNY puts her arm around ALBIE.

                  JENNY
                  Long enough.

                  ALBIE
                  Then you saw it for yourself. I killed Roger Blunder.

                  JENNY
                  Then the elderly ladies are safe?

                  ALBIE
                  It does seem that way!

                  A crowd of vulnerable elderly ladies enter, looking relived.

                  JENNY
                  You are their hero.

                  The elderly ladies bow to ALBIE.

                  ALBIE
                  There is no need to bow to me. I seek no worship. The knowledge that Roger Blunder will never frighten elderly ladies ever again, is enough for me.

                  JENNY
                  You are humble as well as brave! And I think that makes up for hitting your mother with a feather. It does in my opinion!

                  One of the elderly ladies passes ALBIE a healing ring

                  JENNY
                  I think they want you to have it, as a symbol of their gratitude.

                  ALBIE
                  I couldn’t possibly.
                  Pause.

                  ALBIE
                  Well, if you insist. It could come in handy when I go to the Doline tomorrow. With my friend Matt. It is dangerous and only for brave people and a healing ring could come in handy.

                  ALBIE takes the ring.

                  ALBIE
                  Thank you.
                  The elderly ladies bow their heads once more, and leave.

                  ALBIE turns to JENNY.

                  ALBIE
                  Does this mean you want me back?

                  JENNY
                  Oh, Albie, of course I want you back!
                  ALBIE smiles for a few seconds, but then looks defiant.

                  ALBIE
                  Well you can’t have me.

                  JENNY
                  WHAT?

                  ALBIE
                  You had no faith in me. You had to see my scare a hooligan to death before you would believe in me. I don’t want a lover like that. And I am going to the Doline and I may not be back!

                  JENNY
                  But…

                  ALBIE
                  Please leave. I want to spend time with the one person who stayed with me through thick and thin – my best friend, Matt.

                  MATT grins.

                  JENNY
                  But…

                  MATT
                  You heard the gentleman. Now be off with you. Skidaddle! Shoo!

                  JENNY
                  Albie?

                  ALBIE
                  I’m sorry Jenny, but I think you should skidaddle.
                  JENNY leaves.

                  MATT turns to ALBIE.

                  MATT
                  Did you mean that? You know … that I’m your best friend?

                  ALBIE
                  Of course you are!
                  The two walk off arm in arm.

                  Suddenly MATT stops.

                  MATT
                  When I said I’m afraid of dust, you know I was just trying to distract the hooligan don’t you?

                  #4402
                  F LoveF Love
                  Participant

                    (With thanks to random story generator for this comment)

                    Albie looked at the soft feather in his hands and felt happy.

                    He walked over to the window and reflected on his silent surroundings. He had always loved haunting the village near the doline with its few, but faithful inhabitants. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel happiness.

                    Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ma. He felt his mood drop. Ma was ambitious and a mean-spirited bossy boots.

                    Albie gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an impulsive, kind-hearted, beer drinker. His friends saw him as an amusing foolish clown. But he was kind-hearted and once, he had even brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death.

                    But not even an impulsive person who had once brought a brave baby bird back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Ma had in store today.

                    The inclement brooding silence teased like a sitting praying mantis, making Albie anticipate the worst.

                    As Albie stepped outside and Ma came closer, he could see the mean glint in her eye.

                    Ma glared with all the wrath of 9 thoughtless hurt hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I disown you and I want you to leave.”

                    Albie looked back, even more nervous and still fingering the soft feather. “Ma, please don’t boss me. I am going to the doline,” he replied.

                    They looked at each other with conflicted feelings, like two deep donkeys chatting at a very funny farewell.

                    Suddenly, Ma lunged forward and tried to punch Albie in the face. Quickly, Albie grabbed the soft feather and brought it down on Ma’s skull.

                    Ma’s skinny ear trembled and her short legs wobbled. She looked excited, her emotions raw like a rabblesnatching, rare rock.

                    Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ma was dead.

                    Albie went back inside and had himself a cold beer.

                    #4400
                    F LoveF Love
                    Participant

                      Inquisitive Bert
                      A Short Story
                      by trove flacy
                      Bert had always loved rambling Fish Inn with its boiled boarders. It was a place where he felt happiness.

                      He was an inquisitive, depressed, tea drinker with skinny ears and tall sheep. His friends saw him as a moaning, mashed monster. Once, he had even saved a nasty old lady that was stuck in a drain. That’s the sort of man he was.

                      Bert walked over to the window and reflected on his brooding surroundings. The rain hammered like jumping dog.

                      Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Mater . Mater was a bigoted flower with attractive ears.

                      Bert gulped. He was not prepared for Mater.

                      As Bert stepped outside and Mater came closer, he could see the lovely smile on her face.

                      Mater glared with all the wrath of 1553 honest hilarious hippo. She said, in hushed tones, “I hate you and I want information.”

                      Bert looked back, even more ecstatic and still fingering the new-fangled car. “Mater, I own the inn,” he replied.

                      They looked at each other with annoyed feelings, like two delicious, damaged donkey laughing at a very free house sale, which had piano music playing in the background and two sanguine uncles shouting to the beat.

                      Bert regarded Mater’s attractive ear. “I feel the same way!” revealed Bert with a delighted grin.

                      Mater looked puzzled, her emotions blushing like a loud, little letter box.

                      Then Mater came inside for a nice cup of tea.

                      THE END

                      #4358
                      F LoveF Love
                      Participant

                        “Jingle, where are you?” asked Finnley grumpily, peering into the darkness of the attic.

                        “Here”, hissed Jingle from behind some boxes. “Has that dreadful man gone yet?”

                        “Nope, still here. Drooling over Liz no doubt.”

                        “I won’t go back to my mother! That awful woman!”

                        “Well you can’t stay here so you had better go out the window.”

                        “What window? There is no window!” whimpered Jingle.

                        Oh for Flove’s sake! thought Finnley. No imagination. That’s her trouble.

                        Adroitly, she whipped out some power tools and cut a hole in the roof.

                        “There!” she said, taking a step back to survey her work. “A window. Now, off you go. And don’t come back.”

                        “Oh thank you, Finnley. You are wonderful!”

                        “I am, aren’t I,” smirked Finnley.

                        And after all, Liz didn’t even know she had an attic so she certainly won’t notice a window.

                        #4352

                        As the storm was raging outside, Tak was hiding below the bed, with a small knitted patch of garment that Margoritt had given him, which he kept as a comforting soother.

                        The darkness and gales of wind aroused feelings which he had rather not face. He curled below the bed, unaware of the other’s animated discussions, afraid to be terrified.

                        You know this is how it starts… the voice was familiar, warm and gentle, grandfatherly. But he didn’t want to hear it. He had too much pain, and the voice was driving him away from the pain.
                        Listen to me, just listen. You don’t need to answer, just open yourself a little. Let me help you with the pain, and the fear. You’ve had it inside for so long, too long.

                        Go away! Tak was crying silently under the bed, mentally trying to resist the support of the voice who sounded like Master Gibbon.

                        Alright, I will go for now. You just need to call if you need me. But you need to hear that.

                        No! I don’t want! You can’t force me!

                        Just remember that is how every cycle ends: death for your love, then death for all of you, before new painful, forgetful lives begin again for all of you. If you don’t break this cycle, it will end, and start again. You know it’s time for you to break that cycle of revenge, and manipulation. They have greatly suffered too for their mistakes. Let them see you as you are, and learn to forgive them.

                        #4343

                        “I had another vivid dream last night, Sunny. I dreamed of a man I met when i was selling my potions in the market place in town. He was chasing a little red fox and I gave him some potion … “

                        “You dreamed of a fox? That’s a very good omen and fortuitously also reminds me of a joke.
                        What do you call a fox with a carrot in each ear?
                        Anything you want as he can’t hear you!”

                        Glynis smiled reluctantly.

                        “No, that’s what happened. I’ve not got to the dream part yet.”

                        “My apologies,” said Sunny, nudging her ear gently from his perch on her shoulder. “Please continue.”

                        “Anyway the man from the market came to me in my dream and thanked me. He said his wife was well now. He said to look for a gift in the heartwoods.”

                        “Excellent dream!” said Sunny. “I adore gifts. I will keep my eyes open and hope we find it poste haste. How much further is it now, anyway?”

                        “Another few days travel to the fringe of the heartwoods. According to the map, that’s where the first X is.”

                        They continued in silence, glad of each other’s company on the journey.

                        Glynis had been sad to leave the Bakers and more than a few tears were shed on parting They tried to get her to stay but it was without much conviction for Glynis had shown them the map and, though plain folk, they had sound instincts and knew when something had to be.

                        “Any time you want, Girl,” said Mr Baker gruffly, “you’ll find a home here. You hear me? And make sure you keep in touch.”

                        And Glynis nodded, unable to find the words to thank him for his kindness.

                        And Mrs Baker had made her a new burka. She’d stayed up nights sewing to surprise Glynnis. It shimmered, sometimes green and sometimes blue depending on where the light fell and it felt like silk to the touch. Glynis thought it was the most pretty thing she had ever seen.

                        “You’ve a lovely heart, Lass, and anyone who’s worth a penny will see that and not those scales on your face.”

                        It was the first time either of the Bakers had mentioned her appearance and for a moment Glynis was rendered speechless.

                        But not so, Sunny.

                        “Knock, knock!” he cackled loudly. “Oh come on! It’s a good one!”
                        “Who’s there?” said Glynis softly.
                        “Dragon!”
                        “Dragon who?”
                        “Dragon your feet again?”

                        #4342

                        The dinner had already started, the roasted chicken half devoured, and Fox turned redder when he saw Rukshan’s dismayed look. The Fae seemed much too rigid at times.

                        It was a good and cheerful assembly, and Lahmom the traveller of the high plateaus, with her adorned cowboy hat always proudly put on her golden locks of hair, was telling them of the shamanic practices of the people of those far-away places she had seen in her voyages.
                        It was all fascinating to hear, she had such a love for the people that she beamed though her sparkly eyes when she was telling them the tales of those shamans, and how they would drum in circles and be able to communicate with their group spirit…

                        “We should do that sometimes” a surprisingly talkative Gorrash said, as he munched his way though a large ear of maize. He seemed almost drunk on the fermented goat milk that he had found pleasantly attracted to.

                        “Oh, I’m sure we can find some old skin somewhere around my stuff” Margoritt said, amused at the idea of the challenge.
                        Lahmom winked at Tak who was hiding behind his plate, but not missing any word of the lively exchanges.

                        “In all your travels, have you been to any of those places?” Lahmom asked Yorath who seemed distracted.
                        “I’m sorry, what?” he wasn’t paying too much attention “Has anybody seen Eleri?”

                        #4302
                        ÉricÉric
                        Keymaster

                          “Where has Finnley gone this time?” Liz’ pestered with wide movements of her arms.
                          “Dinner isn’t going to cook itself, and honestly, as much as I said I love it, don’t let Godfrey order in more Indian food!”

                          #4309

                          The remembrance had made the magic book reappear in Rukshan’s bag, and with it, its leaves ripe with vibrant parts of the long ago story. Rukshan started to read, immediately engrossed by the story it told.

                          When the Heartswood was young, many thousands of years ago, during the Blissful Summer Age

                          WHO
                          — The Dark FAE
                          — The Mapster DWARF
                          — The Glade TROLL
                          — The Trickster DRYAD
                          — The Tricked GIRL
                          — The Laughing CRONE
                          — The Toothless DRAGON

                          ACT 1, SCENE 1 – THE PREPARATION

                          NARRATOR: It all started as an idea, small and unnoticeable, at first. Almost too frail to endure. But it soon found a fertile soil in the mind of seven improbable acolytes. It took roots and got nourishment from greed, envy, despair, sorrow, despondence, rebellion and other traits. And it grew. That growing idea bound them together, and in search of the way to obtain what it wanted, got them to work together to do an unthinkable thing. Rob the Heartswood of its treasure, the Crest Jewel of the Gods, the radiant Gem that was at its centre. It would be the end of their sorrow, the end of the Gods unfair power of all creation… The idea obscured all others, driving them to act.

                          FAE: Did you get the map?
                          DWARF: Of course, what do you think, I am no amateur. What do you bring to the table?
                          FAE: I bring the way out. But first things first, the map will get us there, but we still need a way in. What says your TROLL friend?
                          DWARF: He heard rumours, there is a DRYAD. Her tree is dying, she tried to petition the Gods, but to no avail. She will help.
                          FAE: Can your friend guarantee it?
                          DWARF: You have damn little trust. You will see, when she brings in the GIRL. She is the key to open the woods. Only an innocent heart can do it, so the DRYAD will trick her.
                          FAE: How? I want to know everything, I don’t like surprises. An unknowing acolyte is a threat to our little heist. What’s her story?
                          DWARF: I don’t know much. Something about a broken heart, a dead one, her lover maybe. The DRYAD told the GIRL she could bring her loved one back from the dead, in the holy woods.
                          FAE: I can work with that. So we are good then?
                          DWARF: You haven’t told me about your exit plan. What is it?
                          FAE: I can’t tell you, not now. We need the effect of surprise. Now go get the others, we will reconvene at the woods’ entrance, tomorrow night, at the darkest moon of the darkest day.

                          SCENE 2 – THE CURIOUS GODMOTHER

                          GIRL: Godmother, I need to go, you are not to worry.
                          CRONE (cackling): Let me come with you, the woods are not safe at this time of the year. The Stranger is surely out there to get you.
                          GIRL: No, no, Godmother, please stay, you cannot help me, you need to rest.

                          Rukshan looked at some of the blank pages, there were still missing patches

                          ACT 2 – SCENE 3 – THE HEIST

                          In the heart of the Heartswoods

                          TROLL: Let me break that crystal, so we can share it!
                          GIRL (reaching for it to protect it): No! I need it whole!
                          DRYAD (in suave tone): Let it go! I will protect it and give you what you want…
                          GIRL: Your promises are worthless! You lied to me!
                          CRONE: (cackles) Told you!
                          DWARF: Give it to me!
                          FAE (quieting everyone): Let’s be calm, friends. Everyone can get what they want.

                          GIRL (startled): Eek! A Guardian DRAGON! We are doomed!
                          FAE (reaching too late for the crystal): Oh no, it had broken in seven pieces. I will put them in this bag, each of us will get one piece after we leave. (to the DRAGON) Lead the way out of this burning circle!
                          DWARF (understanding): Oh, that was your exit strategy…
                          FAE (rolling eyes): Obvious-ly.

                          That was all that the book had to show at the time. Rukshan thought the writer got a little lazier with the writing as the story went, but it was good enough to understand more or less what had happened.

                          There was one last thing that was shown in the book.

                          WHAT THEY STOLE
                          — Shard of Infinite Knowledge
                          — Shard of Transmutation and Shapeshifting
                          — Shard of Ubiquity and Teleportation
                          — Shard of Infinite Influence and Telepathy
                          — Shard of Infinite Life and Death
                          — Shard of Grace and Miracles
                          — Shard of Infinite Strength

                          #4307

                          In reply to: Scrying the Word Cloud

                          ÉricÉric
                          Keymaster

                            kitchen edward office breakfast mushrooms
                            comment rude feel potions clove village
                            exclaimed situation running particular
                            breathing trees writing strong needed restless

                            #4300
                            F LoveF Love
                            Participant

                              Finnley woke with a start. She’d been dreaming that she was chatting and giggling with a group of girlfriends. At one point they all held hands and starting running through a field of flowers, singing at the tops of their high girlish voices.

                              Thank flove that was just a dream, she thought, breathing deeply to calm herself.

                              “Finnley! What are you doing curled up on the chaise-longue? Don’t tell me you are sleeping on the job? Good grief, what next!”

                              Finnley felt an unexpected rush of emotion towards Liz. Don’t ever change, you rude, dictatorial, bossy tart, she thought, still shaking off the remnants of the awful nightmare.

                              “You want me to get rid of the German?” she asked gruffly.

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                            • “Psst|! Glynis!” the muffled voice seemed to be coming from behind the smugwort bushes. With a sigh, she plonked the unappetizing looking casserole on the table, making it look heavier than it was. Sighing again, Glynis made her way out of the open kitchen door with a slow heavy tread. There it was again: “Glynis! Shhh! Over ... · ID #4742 (continued)
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